Hogwarts' First Musical
by The Good Shippers
Summary: The DADA teacher has a rather 'dramatic' solution to liven up Hogwarts...
1. Truth, Beauty, Freedom, and Love

Hogwart's First Musical

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance/Comedy

Pairing: R/Hr, perhaps more later

Disclaimer: All characters and setting belong to J.K. Rowling. We receive no profit from this. Only the OC (Professor Letalis) belongs to us.

Dedication: To Letalis because she is silly enough to not believe in Ron and Hermione, so we made her be part of it instead.

            Harry smiled slightly as he walked into the Great Hall. The ceiling was cloudy tonight, and the moon shone through in shafts on the long tables. He felt at home for the first time in months. He didn't see the worried looks Hermione was giving him or hear Ron chattering about the Chudley Canons' statistics this year. They had a rookie this year that could take them to the Cup if he kept up his spectacular scoring rushes.

            "And then Bredson dove in a circle around the Keeper and--"

            "Ron, be quiet. I cannot take any more Quidditch, and Harry is oblivious."

            Ron looked seriously offended, "Harry listens to me, don't you mate?"

            Harry nodded distractedly, "Of course, Ron."

            Ron beamed, and Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust.

            "You are hopeless, Ron Weasley."

            After the Sorting, Gryffindor gained six First Years and Slytherin had three. Ron sneered across the hall at Malfoy who only smirked back.

            "I don't know what he's so thrilled about. His dad's still in Azkaban. Maybe Voldemort is getting him out and--"

            "Ron Weasley, stop that nonsense," Hermione cut in quickly. The look on Harry's face was pained. Hermione knew he felt responsible for Voldemort and Death Eater remaining at large.

            "I should've killed him already, Hermione. It's my destiny, isn't it? I wish I could get it over with, and then the deaths would stop." 

            He had told her this after some escaped Death Eaters murdered a Muggleborn family last year.

            "Merlin, Hermione. It was on Christmas too." The tears he blinked back hadn't escaped her notice. Oh Harry. Hermione wanted to be there for him, but more and more, Harry closed himself off. Ron, being the dolt he was, didn't noticed at all.

            Hermione smiled. But Ron kept Harry out of his dark thoughts. He always talked to Harry, made him play Wizard Chess, or discuss Quidditch strategies. Ron managed to pull Harry out of his shell with his sheer enthusiasm. She was grateful to Ron. She didn't really know how to joke and tease Harry. She always felt so lost around him because he wouldn't ever talk to her about his feelings. Except that once. He had denied it vehemently afterward. Then again so had she. 

            I'll just have to get you drunk more often, dear Harry. She clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress the giggle.

            Ron gave her an odd look, "What the blazes is wrong with you, 'Mione?"

            She blushed a pale pink before exclaiming in relief, "Oh look. That must be the new Defense Against the Dark Ages teacher."

            Hermione pointed to a tall, dark woman in green cloaks sitting next to Professor Sprout. Last year, Lupin and Snape had taught the sixth years between themselves. No other teacher had felt brave enough to come to Hogwarts, which was Voldemort's main target. Lupin was needed in the fields, and between espionage and Potions, Snape grudgingly admitted he couldn't take on DADA also.

            So this was the courageous replacement. Hermione squinted at her, but she couldn't seem to focus on the woman's face. She looked oddly familiar but Hermione could not place where she'd seen her before-

            "Students." Dumbledore grinned and his eyes took on the old twinkle. "We have a new teacher this year. For DADA this year, Professor Letalis has agreed to come to Hogwarts. She has a surprise for the sixth and seventh years but that is irrelevant at the moment. Please bid her a warm welcome." He beamed and raised his glass in toast.

            "Letalis, Letalis," Hermione murmured. "Where have I heard that name?"

            "Look, 'Mione! There's roasted quail this year. I've missed it." Ron eyed the mountains of food adoringly.

            Harry snorted. "You sound as if you're talking about a girlfriend abroad."

            Hermione clenched her spoon unnecessarily hard, and Ron's face flamed.

            Harry grinned, "You don't have a girlfriend abroad, do you Ron?"

            Ron mumbled something incoherent, and Harry was going in for the kill when Hermione threw her spoon the table and yelled, "I've got it!"

            Seamus looked over at her appraisingly, "You sure do, 'Mione."

            Harry spat out his pudding, laughing with tears in his eyes. Ron's face had gone suddenly pale, and his eyes looked glazed over. Harry's laughter intensified to the point that Ron none so subtly pushed him out of his chair. Hermione blushed furiously before announcing, "Letalis is an Elf name. Ancient, of course. It's from when they were the Fair Race and the first who held magic. This all was before slavery and degradation." She looked menacingly around the table.

            "But, Hermione, why does her name matter?" Ron asked perplexedly, ignoring her S.P.E.W. related comment.

            She sighed heavily, "Because she's an Elf, Ron."

            Ron sputtered. "She is not. The Elves died out a long time ago. Only the House Elves are left."

            Hermione nodded, "Well, that's right. The true Elves are long gone, but it's been said that the Second Elves are coming into existence."

            Even Harry looked interested, "What do you mean, Hermione?"

            "I don't really know, actually. I just read that Elves were still alive."

            Ron grinned maliciously, "Now where could you have read that, Hermione? Not in the Prophet, I imagine..."

            "Well, I..."

            Harry took on a look of mock shock, " 'Mione! You haven't been reading The Quibbler now have you?" 

            "Won't Luna be thrilled?" said Ginny suddenly, getting in on the fun.

            "Oh, you. You're all so awful." But she was smiling anyway.

            The rest of the dinner passed in good cheer. Harry and Ron shot peas at the Slytherin table. "5 points for Crabbe and Goyle. 10 for Malfoy, and 15 for his hair." They stopped when Ginny landed some mashed potato on Draco's nose. Neville almost chocked on the fudge, but Seamus stuck some biscotti in his nose and Neville coughed it up. Then Dean and Ron started Quidditch strategies with Bertie Bott's Every-Flavored Beans. "Already?" asked Hermione in exasperation.

Hermione was happy. Everyone at the Gryffindor table seemed happy, even Harry. Hermione put away the face and name of the strange new DADA teacher for the night and laughed when Ginny stuck Chocolate Frogs into Lavender's pumpkin juice. Her scream came out as a ribbit.

By the time dinner had ended, the older Gryffindors had succeeded in thoroughly terrifying the first years with their antics. They took no notice of the eleven-year-olds who carefully watched them and just went about finishing eating what they hadn't thrown at one another. After the meal Hermione carefully monitored the fifth year prefects lead the nervous first years to Gryffindor tower.

"That's right, 'Mione! I'd forgotten you made Head Girl this year. You don't have to walk with the little buggers anymore," Ron said as she surveyed the chaos.

"Yeah," Hermione began, biting her lip, "but I just wish that you had been made Head Boy with me, Ron."

"Oh, Hermione, you'll be just fine. Who is Head Boy this year? Is it Ernie?" Ron replied good-naturedly.

"Well, actually," Hermione said slowly, "it's Draco Malfoy." She winced as she looked up to see Ron's reaction.

"WHAT?!?" Ron exclaimed. "Why would Dumbledore make that slimy ferret Head Boy? Dumbledore should know that he's about as good as a Death Eater! Why..."

Harry almost retorted with "Perhaps Dumbledore trusts him, Ron" but the last thing Harry wanted was to fight with his best friend only hours after getting to school.

Ron went on for a while, but Harry tuned him out. They made the familiar walk to Gryffindor tower together, and Harry felt a pang of immeasurable sadness thinking that this would be his last year at Hogwarts, his only home. He refused to go back to the Black estate and let it sit and rot. He had no idea what he wanted to do after this. Defeat Voldemort wasn't really an occupation. Perhaps he'll stick around long enough, and I can have the first official position of "Wizard Savior." Harry smiled bitterly.

The huge group of Gryffindors reached the Fat Lady, and one of the prefects proudly said, "Hippogriff feathers". Everyone smirked when Neville moaned. "I won't ever remember that!"

"Don't forget the password like this bumble brain," Dean said, grinning at Neville, "or you'll be locked out many a cold nights in the corridor."

Everyone but the first years laughed and stepped inside, passing the bulletin board.

"Oh, look!" Hermione said, most likely in an effort to stop Ron's tirade, which showed no sign of ending. "There's going to be a class with all sixth and seventh years that meets three times a week. The first class is meeting tomorrow during DADA. The rest will meet after hours. Professor Letalis is signed as professor. Huh. I wonder what it's about." 

"Oh that's all we need this year. Another class," commented Ginny as she walked by.

"At least you don't have the N.E.W.T.'s to worry about on top of extra classes!" retorted Ron. Ginny rolled her eyes and walked away, going to talk to Colin Creevey.

"Great, all we need is to start off the day with Slytherins," muttered Harry.

"Well, I think it will be interesting," Hermione said pretentiously. "I mean, she is a real elf! I bet she'll have all kinds of things to teach us. Maybe that's why she needs the extra class time."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look of humor and exasperation as they entered the common room together and settled in their normal seats by the fireplace. When they began catching up for their friends, all thoughts of the new class and odd Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher were forgotten. At the end of the night, each of the students went to their respective bedrooms and got their last peaceful sleep before classes started again.

The next morning the sixth and seventh Years all filed into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, excitedly wondering what their mysterious new class would be. As Professor Letalis walked to the front of the room, she cleared her throat, and the noisy group of teenagers went silent. Even Neville's toad, Trevor, hushed his ribbits.

"Thank you," she began, elegantly dressed in dark green robes, as she had been last night. "I am Professor Letalis, and as some of you may or may not have noticed, I am an Elf of the second Generation, descended from a line of House Elves--"

"Oh Merlin's goatee, don't tell me that those things breed!" Draco Malfoy whispered loudly while Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

"They do, Mr.- Malfoy. Like bunnies in fact," Letalis said without skipping a beat. "As you can see, I'm much taller than an average House Elf, even if I do possess their long limbs and characteristic facial features." Tall was an understatement. Professor Letalis was a few meters from Hagrid's full height, and he was half-Giant. The Professor also had a large, piercing eyes, exceptionally lengthy fingers, and an angular face. It was now quite easy to see her vague likeness to a House Elf.

              "Second Elves have House Elf magic, along with the possibility of Wizard abilities. This makes us relatively powerful, if we possess both sides of heritage magic." Hermione was scribbling furiously on her parchment.

"So genetically and magically speaking, some other blood must have contributed to our anatomy. In this case, that would be human blood."

Draco twisted his face in a look of disgust, causing the Slytherins to snicker. Hermione looked up from her notes and glared half-heartedly. She hated to miss out on this fascinating lecture because of some stupid gits.

"Seeing as Purebloods most commonly have House Elves in their service, those two groups eventually reproduced Second Elves as offspring." She looked steadily at Draco.

Draco's face turned to a deep shade of puce, which caused Harry to swallow his sugar quill in mid-guffaw and choke profusely.

"Regurgitus. Do be careful- Mr. Potter."

The quill was dislodged, but instead of thanking the Professor, Harry stared with his eyes widening in shock.

"Harry," whispered Hermione furiously, "Harry, you're staring."

Harry shut his mouth with an audible snap and looked down in growing interest of the table's grain.

That was strange, pondered Hermione. Why did Harry have that strange look on his face?

Professor Letalis turned her dark gaze from Harry to the entire class. "I would take notes if I were you. I'm not lecturing for fun. This is your first DADA lesson, although the rest will be separate and during regular schedules." The shifting of paper, clink of ink pots, and frantic scratch of quills filled the room's silence. Hermione had a disgustingly smug look on her face. 

The next forty-five minutes were spent listening to Professor Letalis lecture on the origins of the First Elves, and the beginnings on the Second. After an eternity of notes, she stopped.

"That will do for today. Be familiar with this information as you will be tested over it. Now, for the introduction of this class's true purpose."

"All your teachers were kind enough to allow me this block of their class time for this. I expect you to pay careful attention. Hogwarts has added a new class for sixth and seventh years. This is not a normal class. You will not be tested in the traditional way of academic courses." She paused for the cheering, "But it will still be difficult, perhaps more so than your other classes. You will not only show me what you have learned but the entire school." Professor Letalis suddenly jumped on a table before continuing dramatically, "This year you will study truth! Beauty! Freedom! And Love!" Lavender and Parvati squealed in unison and giggled at the mention of love. No one else seemed to understand what was going on.

Upon seeing the blank stares of her students, Professor Letalis sighed. She stepped off the table and said, "This will be your first theatre class. Hogwarts wishes to further education in the fine arts, which I hope to accomplish while simultaneously teaching you about the Dark Arts. We will perform the musical Moulin Rouge for the rest of the school. Auditions are Friday during this class time. I expect to see you all here. Class dismissed," she finished half-heartedly, feeling a bit disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm. After surveying her potential cast one last time, she exited the classroom.

As soon as Letalis had left, the students started buzzing with excitement.

"Moulin Rouge? What the hell is that?"

"Oh, it's a Muggle movie! It's absolutely wonderful. They sing and dance the entire time. There are lovers, whores, and all kinds of good stuff!"

"What? I can't dance!"

"Whores? We're doing a play about whores?"

"All right!"

"Well, I expect I'll get the lead role. As long as I'm not with some Mudblood, like Granger, I will gladly benefit the school with my artist genius." Draco Malfoy's voice penetrated the general roar in the room. "I mean, really. Look at my competition," he said, sneering as he sized up the rest of the boys in the room.

Everyone but the Slytherins ignored Draco's egotistic musings. The Gryffindors were in a corner, chatting animatedly with each other.

"Ooh, I saw that movie this summer!" Lavender squealed. "It was absolutely amazing and so gorgeous! Christian and Satine were truly in love." She and Parvati sighed at the thought. "I hope I get Satine!" they both exclaimed at the same time. They giggled.

"I wonder who Christian will be," cooed Parvati.

"Well, I think it sounds bloody stupid," Ron said sullenly. 

"Oh, Ron, why?" Hermione asked. "The movie itself may lack plot, but the theme is quite wonderful. It's all about Satine, a beautiful prostitute, and she's supposed to marry the Duke, but she's really in love with Christian, a handsome young writer, and oh, she's deathly ill too, and you will try out, won't you, Ron?" 

Ron just gaped in amazement at one of the most impressive run-on sentences he'd ever heard. Hermione grinned weakly as she attempted to catch her breath.

"Well it didn't really seem like any of us had much of a choice," remarked Harry, smiling. "But I suppose a play might be fun." 

Slowly the students started to file out of the classroom, still excited about the prospect of Hogwart's first musical. Each person was secretly hoping they'd get cast as one of the leads and was mentally playing out their road to stardom. One student, however, was daydreaming about the Moulin Rouge in a much deeper way. 

Hermione Granger daydreamed about Ewan McGregor slowly growing floppy red hair, awkward limbs, and a multitude of freckles. Nicole Kidman's sleek auburn locks became frizzy brown curls and her piercing eyes softened to warm brown. She and Ron, in rather strange costumes, danced, sang, and most importantly, kissed in her waking fantasy.

They had been playing a large part in her dreams, morning and night, since fourth year. During the Yule Ball, Viktor Krum magically transformed into Ronald Weasley throughout the evening, bumbling along to the dance steps and cursing under his breath. Hermione kept hoping Ron would come over and ask for a dance. Instead he sat sulking in his ridiculously adorable dress robes and glaring at Padma Patil. _I cannot fathom why. Padma is so nice, after all. _Hermione giggled quietly.

While Hermione liked Viktor quite a lot, her feelings for Ron were no longer strictly platonic. She knew she more than fancied Ron, and that now she was in love with him.  __

_I'll never have the courage to tell him. I'd die of embarrassment first. At least that way I wouldn't have to face the rejection._ Hermione sighed heavily_. And I'm a terrible actress. I can dance all right but my singing is lousy. I have no theatric flare. Stop getting your hopes up, Hermione. And no way Ron will agree to try-out for Christian anyway._

            Hermione listened to the other girls gush about Satine's costumes and make-up. _It's not fair, really. They're not in it for the play, just looking pretty and showing off._

            She ran a frustrated hand through her tangled hair. _You're not being just, Hermione. You want it for the purpose of getting your best friend to fall in love with you. They have every right to the play just like you. You should be brave enough to tell Ron without some stupid play._

One person who had seemed excited was Harry. She smiled thinking about his reaction. Harry really needed something to get his mind off of everything else.

"'Mione! Oi, Hermione, get your head out of the clouds. We're going to be late for Transfiguration!" Ron yelled. Hermione shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. Ah yes, her Wizard in shining armor... 

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Hermione replied. She walked quickly to catch up with Harry and Ron, and the trio walked together to their next class.

A/N: Well, there's the first chapter! Oh, and we do know that our story would be set in 1997, and that Moulin Rouge wasn't made until 2001, but we'll just call that part AU, okay?


	2. Snogging and Other Business

Hogwarts' First Musical

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance/Comedy

Pairing: R/Hr, perhaps more later

Disclaimer: All characters and setting belong to J.K. Rowling. We receive no profit from this. Only the OC (Professor Letalis) belongs to us. Moulin Rouge doesn't belong to us either.

A/N: Thanks so much to our 8 reviewers on the last chapter! Really, you have no idea how happy you make us! Here's the second chapter, hope you enjoy it.

            Hermione was exhausted. Her first day back, and she had an inch thick stack of notes she had taken in her classes. Professor Letalis' class had taken the most out of her, but she had been thoroughly entranced with DADA and the new Theatre program.

            Plus Letalis in herself was fascinating. Hermione knew there was something more to her than she let on, but she had no idea what. Then she remembered-

            "Harry," she said while they were walking to the Gryffindor common room, "Why were you looking at Letalis so strangely?"

            "What? Harry was making eyes at the Elf?" Ron guffawed. "Harry, you better not let her know--"

            Harry blushed till he complemented the shade of Ron's hair and said, "I don't fancy her, Ron. Letalis spoke in here." He tapped his temple gingerly. "She asked me my name. When I told her, she remarked that she knew my mother well. That she had liked my father. Her expression didn't change a lick, but I could feel that it was her." He swallowed thickly. "And then she was gone from my head." He looked down at his feet.

            "Oh, Harry. That's amazing. Mind-to-mind contact is very intimate. Only Elves and very brilliant Wizards can perform it, and only do so when they trust someone."

            "How can she trust me? She hardly knows who I am."

            Ron shrugged. "Maybe she knew your parents well enough that she figured you'd be a swell chap."

            Hermione bit her lip in consternation. "I don't know. I just don't."

            They finally reached the Fat Lady, told her the password, and went in to find the common room in pandemonium. 

            "What's going on?" whispered Harry with a fearful look that made Hermione giggle.

            "Oh, there you three are. I thought you'd never get around. Lavender and Parvati have all the sixth and seventh years in a riot. It's absolutely nutters in here." Ginny Weasley sighed. "You'd better come and hear this. I don't know whether to laugh or what."

            Right in front of the fireplace sat Parvati and Lavender with serene Professor Trelawney-like expressions on their faces.

            "What's going on?" asked Ron loudly.

            "Well, Mr. Weasley, we are giving advice to the young Gryffindors here." Lavender may have pulled off the teacher act if Parvati hadn't giggled, which started them both up.

            "Yeah, they're telling everyone to study lines, dances, and songs all night so they can get a good part. Poor Neville is trying to learn to tango. He almost fell down a complete set of stairs. And then they're telling us to sit really, really close to the stage, so Letalis can see us." Ginny said this with her eyes wide and believing, but her smirk belied her real thoughts.

            Hermione snorted, "There's more to a play than the actors. You must have a crew in make-up, costume, set, light, sound, everything. It has to be strictly monitored so the actors mikes are up, their lipstick blotted, their costumes ready for the scene change. A performance is a body of people, not just one or two."

            Parvati rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, "Hermione, I know this whole Muggle theater thing is really romantic with sweat, heavy costumes, and glaring lights, but we have an advantage. Magic." Lavender nodded and looked at Hermione superiorly. 

            "Who's going to cast the spells?" retorted Hermione. "Surely not Professor Letalis all by herself. That's ridiculous. Hundreds of spells and then what if the magic falters? Technology must back it up. So not only must you have a magically cable crew but a scientific one. That's a lot of parts that that have to be filled, or the show can't go on."

            She ended matter-of-factly and rather caustically, but the entire common room broke into applause. Hermione looked in startlement around at the grinning faces. Neville was positively glowing, and Dean was whistling shrilly.

            "What'd I do?" she whispered timidly in Harry's ear.

            "You gave all of us without the flair of the stage a chance at a hope." He grinned brilliantly at her.

            "Yeah, mate, nice going there." Ron patted her nervously on the back.

            Hermione liked that everyone felt better now, but Parvati and Lavender looked crestfallen. She hadn't meant to hurt their feelings, only reveal other possibilities in theater. They were quite stuck-up, but they were very nice.  She sighed heavily at their long faces.

            "But it would be a great deal of fun if we all pulled out some sleeping bags and blankets. We could sleep in the common room tonight and get positively giddy till one o'clock when we all fall into an exhausted heap." This was announced with a surprisingly short amount of breath.

            Another cheer and now the faces were happy unanimously.

            Just the way Hermione liked it.

...

            Everyone murmured in excitement as they walked into the dimly lit theater. They sat down in old velvety seats and watched the red curtains with a heightening amount of anticipation. 

            As Professor Letalis scanned the pale faces, she saw fear, energy, agitation, and a strange kind of determination. Please let them be good. They need this as much as anyone.

            The way they desperately clung onto this distraction from the War, murders, and mystery had decided Letalis' mind. She had thought perhaps it wasn't such a good idea, pressuring them even more.

            But the looks she saw, especially a few, made her realize that these were children, and they deserved to be something more than dead war generals and unhonored spies.

            She smiled at them and raised the house lights with a flick of her fingers. 

            "Welcome to the Hogwarts Theatre. At the end of this production, you all will rename it so it holds your memories and good fortune for future performers.

            "Everyone will act. Whether it be backstage with costumes, lights, or set design. Or on the stage as the lead role or the smallest choral part. You all will do your part, and you must do it, or the show cannot go on. Without one of you, it will fall apart because each of you is important as the next."

            Hermione smirked.

            "Now, seventh years will do auditions for the cast first. The sixth years will go back stage to meet a panel of judges who will decide what talents you could bring to the crew. If you do not want a certain part, then please say so.

            "Sixth years, you are dismissed. Seventh years, please move to the front."

            The squeak of chairs and rustle of bodies was all that could be heard for the next couple of minutes, but it settled down.

            "Good luck then, mate."

            "Don't be too worried, Neville. You'll do fine."

            "Break a leg, Seamus!"

            "You get Satine, Pansy, and I'll sure be the Duke!"

            It went on till finally the students noticed Letalis standing quiet and immobile on stage. As soon as there was silence, she snapped.

            "In your hands," everyone looked down, shocked and surprised to see scripts, "you will find some scene excerpts and songs. Also there are character descriptions. Those of you within the reaches of Muggle culture may already know them, but I'll appreciate it if you can keep absolutely quiet during explanations so everyone hears.

            "Good. Now, the leading roles are Christian and Satine. Christian is a handsome young writer who works with a group called the Bohemians. We'll get to them later. Satine is the leading prostitute in a club run by Harold. Harold is her boss. He wants Satine to marry the Duke, which could give him good publicity and Satine a chance at stardom. The Duke is a relatively sneaky bloke who lusts after Satine desperately. 

            "The Bohemians are a group of theatre artists who are trying to create a show. They include the infamous artist, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, who is very short in stature but the brilliant Bohemian leader nonetheless. The Doctor has the bad habit of making things explode, so he's in charge of special effects. Satie is the music composer and conductor. Then there is Audrey who was originally to write the play the Bohemians would perform, but when Christian took over, he left.

            "The major whores at Harold's club are Nini Legs-in-the-Air, Arabia, China Doll, and Môme Fromage. A few more minor characters remain but those can be discussed with the one who receives the role. There will be many back-up singers and dancers since this is a play within a play.

            "Now, we'll start off with group auditions first, singing and dancing. Everyone up. Stretch for a few minutes. If you don't, I won't allow you to go to Madame Pomfrey with a sprained ankle. That's very good. 

            "Now, repeat after me. Do re me fa so la ti do."

            A few murmurs in the crowd rippled quietly into the rafters.

            Professor Letalis clucked her tongue. "What a shame. It will be so disappointing if none of the seventh years merit a role in the play. The sixth years will be pleased though."

            "Let's try again."

            This time, a strong and relatively harmonious scale echoed off the walls. Letalis grinned. "Marvelous. You all have lovely singing voices. I know I'll be pleased as pumpkin juice with the chorus." Tense smiles lighted on many faces.

            "Now what we're going to do--" 

            ...

            "All right, take a quick break everyone." The seventh years gasped in relief. Every one of them had sung in small groups till voices cracked like pubescent boys and danced until feet dragged like ironclads and arms like chains. Letalis remarked they would make perfect dungeon decorations and that she must tell Professor Snape.

            No one was quite sure whether she was kidding or not.

            But they had all done considerably well. Professor Letalis was very patient with notes and steps. She made sure everyone got a fair chance. A wave of comfort passed through everyone. 

            "Now individual and duo auditions will begin. To get everyone's legs and voices a chance to rest, we'll start with acting out scenes. Any volunteers?"

            The entire room was silent.

            "Huh. That's quite a neat trick. I must share it with the other teachers. They would be thrilled that you all are quiet at moments." The strange thing about Letalis was that she made jokes without even a little emotional inflection.

            "Well, then, I'll have to select volunteers. How about our Head Boy and Head Girl? Surely they can set a good example."

            Draco Malfoy sauntered to the stage, immaculate and sneering as usual. Hermione, on the other hand, looked quite pale. With the chorus parts and dancing, she had done fine. But acting in front of the entire seventh year wrecked her. She could hardly stand the thought of doing poorly, especially since a lot of the Gryffindors were almost depending on her to do well. Oh, she did not like this one bit. It didn't help that Malfoy was her partner.

            He merely raised his eyebrows in vague disgust and took on the look of a tortured martyr. Trust me, Malfoy, I'd rather quarter myself than do this. Especially with you, she thought vehemently.

            She inhaled shakily and faced Malfoy with as icy a stare as she could muster. His lips curled, transforming his face into a hellishly attractive demon. Well, the lights and exhaustion were definitely getting to her. Since when had Malfoy been good looking? 

            Since always. He was rather thin and pale, but aristocrats tended to have dutifully beautiful children. Fine boned, sharp features, and piercing eyes. Perhaps inbreeding had something to do with it.

Hermione snickered helplessly, which made Malfoy glare threateningly. It reminded her vaguely of when Harry had told Malfoy "You wish" at the Dueling Club. The thought comforted her, oddly enough, and she smiled at him.

            This caught Malfoy off guard because his mouth fell open slightly.

            "Your scene is on page 54. It's one of the many love scenes. This one, however, is central, the most important one. It's when Satine realizes beyond shadow of doubt that she is in love with Christian. So this is a fairly tormented but still passionate scene. No need for laughter, since most of you will be performing the same scene." She looked sharply into the dark theater. "If you cannot perform the most emotional, and therefore most embarrassing, scene with relative dignity, then you cannot perform at all.

            "Well then. Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger, please begin at the first line."

            "But I am in love with you." Malfoy looked at her somberly and tenderly. "Will you not admit the same?" 

            Gasps sounded in the darkness. Malfoy was good. What sincerity he lacked in life came to him smoothly on the stage. He looked quite heart-breakingly beautiful with the confused and adoring expression on his face. Hermione felt flustered because of this and the rolls and twists her stomach performed all on its own.

            Do not be nervous, Ms. Granger. You will do perfectly fine. Just say the lines. Imagine someone you truly love is saying these blessed words to you, and for all the world you want to say yes but fear it more than you have ever feared anything in your life. Just make this reality. Make it your life.

            Hermione would have screamed if Harry had not told her about DADA class. She knew Letalis was speaking to her, although she only looked calmly at the two on stage, her face utterly blank. Her acting skills far surpassed any Hermione could possibly contain. But she would try.

            With a long, shaky breath, she timidly entered the scene of despair and love. After the first few lines, she felt it. Draco became taller, tanner, and redheaded. Freckles danced on his nose, and his smile rivaled the too bright lights. She was Satine. Draco was Ron. Ron was Christian. She felt it all in the depths of her bones.

            In tortured denial, she cast aside Christian's declaration, claiming apathy and amused distaste. She kept her distance, praying the he would go away and hoping he would stay forever. Christian pursued her with his words, chasing down her doubts. It became blindingly, irreversibly clear what her path must be. 

            She turned to Christian, his warm eyes dancing, and they kissed.

            At first Satine felt nothing but bliss, but it became wrong. Horribly, twistedly wrong. She pulled back in shock, finding Christian's face had morphed into the Duke's. He leered at her in dirty appreciation. 

            Satine's hand flew to her chest, and she backed away quickly as the world faded. Draco's pale face, Ron's shouting, a general roar from offstage, and Letalis' cool hands brought reality back so quickly, Hermione could hardly breath.

            "Took your breath away, didn't I, Granger? You're not too bad yourself," 'For a Mudblood' was left off for the first time Hermione could remember. She would have felt touched and amused if the horror hadn't been so present. Malfoy grinned maliciously and looked in pleasure at Ron's flushed, angry face. 

            "That was excellent. Wonderful scene, you both have true talent," said Letalis quietly. "Now, seventh years, we will begin with the next duo. Let's see, perhaps Mr. Blaise Zabini and Ms. Hannah Abbot? But before that, let's give a round of applause for our first two auditioners. It takes immense bravery to be first and be mature enough performers to do a scene as it should be done."

            The room calmed down except for Ron. He sat fuming silently to Harry, who gave Hermione a jolly shrug. He mouthed "Bloody brilliant" to her and winked. She felt overwhelmingly grateful for Harry's sweetness.

            Malfoy took her hand in his and pulled her into a bow. She blushed heatedly, but he held her on stage. When she slipped her hand away, he did a number of flourishes that looked distinctly like Professor Snape. The Slytherins roared in laughter, but the other Houses watched with bland and annoyed expressions.

            Malfoy was really being quite funny. He wasn't even offending anyone. Perhaps the Slytherins didn't get enough credit, at least where it was due.

            As she sat down, Ron refused to look at her. She felt hurt. It wasn't like she had a crush on Malfoy. She was only acting, after all. A kiss on stage was a trick between the actors and the audience, not between the performers.

            And the kiss hadn't been with Malfoy anyway...

            "What's his problem?" she said to Harry, irritation rising with every moment of Draco's extended bowing.

            "Well, you were kissing a Slytherin, Hermione. With quite a bit of passion, I might add. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

            "Don't be ridiculous, Harry. I like-" She stopped herself quickly, "I like to think of myself as a good actress. I can kiss anyone with any amount of feeling if it is so required."

            "Even if it's one of the best looking boys in school?"

            "Or even one of the most plain. I could do it either way," she said firmly.

            Harry gave her an odd look. "All right. Whatever you say, Hermione."

            They both turned their attention to the spectacle on stage. Letalis was in rare form, smiling almost broadly and pushing Draco playfully off the stage. He took on a look of tremendous offense and pouted impressively. 

            "But Professor, Satine is dead now, so perhaps-"

            "That'll be all, Mr. Malfoy. You may sit down now. Although I'm sure everyone enjoyed your passion and drama, the kiss isn't really necessary for auditions." Hermione blushed slightly. "So it will not be mandatory for the following couples. If you can muster it, that's fine, but I'll have no liplock sessions of any young love phoenixes on this stage. Do that somewhere else, not here. Kissing isn't even done on stage until a week before performance, perhaps not even until opening night." Everyone exchanged surprised looks but didn't not dare contradict or even ask for Letalis' reasons.

            And then the next scene began. After that, the next one. The same scene was performed over and over again, until everyone in the room felt they had it memorized. The nervousness that they all felt began slipping away with each progressive audition. Excitement abounded only when the more interesting pairs were on stage. 

            "Ms. Parkinson! That will be quite enough!" Letalis exclaimed. "Please, step away from Mr. Potter." Harry sat down looking mortified, and quite rightly so. After all, he had been practically mauled by Pansy Parkinson's mouth. 

            "At least you put up a good fight, mate," Ron commented in between his fits of laughter, "unlike some people," he finished casting an angry glance at Hermione.

            "She said the kiss wasn't mandatory!" Harry stammered, "I mean, it was bad enough having to pretend to be in love with Pansy, but really- I wasn't expecting her to try to kiss me!" he moaned. 

            "All right, let's get back to auditions, please!" Letalis interjected, stopping the murmuring and laughter on the second. "I think our last auditioners will be Mr. Weasley and Ms. Brown." Ron shrugged, happy that he hadn't acted with someone like Millicent Bulstrode. Poor Neville. Lavender rose gracefully, and stepped onto the stage, giving Ron a small reassuring smile through her tittering. "Go ahead," Letalis said, breaking the silence.

            "But I am in love with you. Will you not admit the same?" Ron recited the same, monotonous line like every other boy in the room. After countless reciting, no one expected anything different. Yet the emotion in Ron's voice after his first few lines took everyone's breath away. A moment of shock settled over the room, and then every girl in the room stared at Ron in wonder and budding appreciation. Even Draco looked impressed, albeit briefly. 

Lavender reacted very well, considering the raw talent her partner was exhibiting. Hermione was holding her breath, watching Ron's every move. Near the end of the scene, she noticed that Ron kept glancing in her direction. Apparently so did everyone else. They turned and watched her curiously.

            Is this scene meant for me? She thought hopefully. She sighed inwardly. Overanalyzation always had been a particular gift of hers. After the final line of the scene, she snapped out of her reverie and prepared to clap for Ron and Lavender's incredible performance. But at the last minute, Ron gave one quick look in Hermione's direction before pulling Lavender close to him and kissing her passionately.

            What am I doing?! Ron thought, panic-stricken. He remembered being angry with Hermione for kissing Draco, thinking that if she could go off kissing some bloke, especially a Slytherin bloke, he could bloody well kiss Lavender. He slowly pulled himself away from his reading partner, who looked at him dazedly. The room was silent, and many of the Gryffindors turned slowly to look at Hermione for her reaction. She sat in her seat, expressionless, although her thoughts flew about erratically. 

            Not the brightest idea you've ever had, Mr. Weasley said a very dry voice. Ron nearly jumped at the intrusion on his mind but remembered belatedly what Harry had told him about Professor Letalis. 

            "Well," Letalis said brightly, breaking the silence, "I believe that's everyone. You may leave. The cast list will be posted in the next few days. Thank you!" Like in a dream, people started to move. Ron realized he was still on the stage, staring at Lavender. He shuddered violently and jumped off the stage. Lavender sluggishly got off the stage, and Parvati ran over to comfort her. Their stunned state brought on a slight upturn of Professor Letalis' lips.

            "What happened?" Parvati said, obviously horrified. "I mean, he just kissed you out of nowhere! Does Ron have a crush on you? Oh, Lavender, was it just awful?"

            "It wasn't too bad," Lavender said, a sly smile playing on her lips, "Actually, it seems that Ron Weasley boy is really quite the snogger." Parvati gasped before they both dissolved into a fit of giggles, simultaneously swooning over Ron's retreating form.

            "I'm glad that's over!" Harry exclaimed. "Those auditions were really something, weren't they?" All three of us were attacked at the lips...

Ron and Hermione mumbled their responses. Neither was talking to the other, and Harry was once again caught in the middle of their argument. Well, I suppose this is better than them yelling at each other, but that thought didn't give him much encouragement. "Well, I for one am excited about this play," he finished lamely as they reached Gryffindor tower.  

            "Yeah, sure," Ron said, lacking any sort of enthusiasm. "I'm going to bed."

            "Me too," Hermione said, quite as detached as Ron. "'Night, Harry."

            Harry watched sadly as his two best friends went up opposite staircases. He knew they liked each other. Ron never talked about Hermione in that way, but Harry caught the perplexed looks he gave her. He may not know he did yet, but Harry was confronted with it daily. And Hermione had told Harry. She had revealed that little fact the night they relied too heavily on Butterbeer for comfort. Harry smiled, remembering it with a mixture of humor and sorrow. Through some unspoken agreement, they never brought up that conversation when more was revealed than either of them was comfortable with untoxicated. Harry sighed and sank into an armchair by the fireplace, listening to the excited voices of the Gryffindors, until he fell asleep in the chair, dreaming worriedly of Hermione and Ron.


	3. A Thousand Paper Cuts

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance/Comedy

Pairing: R/Hr, perhaps more later

Disclaimer: All characters and setting belong to J.K. Rowling. We receive no profit from this. Only the OC (Professor Letalis) belongs to us. Moulin Rouge doesn't belong to us either.

A/N: Once again, thanks so much for reviewing! We have a little request for any Moulin Rouge fans that are reading. If you have a favorite scene that you'd like to see practiced in our story, let us know in a review! We'll try to work it into the story. Hope you enjoy Chapter 3! Oh, and feedback keeps the Blast ended Skrewts pleased, so send it on in!

A Thousand Paper Cuts

Peeves was, quite frankly, peeved. None of the students were out of bed and being naughty. He liked to get them in trouble, and he wasn't allowed in the common rooms. Not even Harry Potty was out with his little friends.

            Peeves had overheard some talk about a play, but he didn't really bother with it. Theater wasn't a very good torture device, whatever way you looked at it. And Peeves didn't quite connect in his spectral little head that the play was what kept all the students exhausted and comfortable in their rooms.

            Banging on the knights' visors and throwing spitballs at the trophy cabinet made him feel a little better. He wandered around some more looking for a House Elf to terrorize until a low voice drew him to a door.

            It was that new woman, Professor Letalis. Peeves didn't particularly like her. She had stared right through him on her first day, like he wasn't even there. No one ignored Peeves. He simply wouldn't tolerate it. He blew raspberries at her and tried throwing mashed potatoes in her hair, but none of his antic fazed her. He sniffed and went to torture firsties for a while because her attitude got him so down.

            He leaned against the stone and listened carefully to the voices within.

            "I don't know, Nire. I just don't. It's such a short time and the War could flare again at any moment. If I lose one, Morgan forbid, then the show will shatter and they'll lose all faith. I don't want to ruin it for them but either way, there seem to be so many obstacles. False hope isn't the answer for these kids." Letalis' voice was laden with fatigue. 

            "They're not as young as you seem to think, Letalis. These are full-grown men and women in children's bodies. They've seen war. They know evil and its foul brothers. The hope is shaky, but I think they need it more than they don't." The strange voice paused and another one broke in.

            "You won't lose any either, Letalis. We're watching over you and the children. We won't let Lord Voldemort and his forces close without you or Dumbledore knowing."

            Peeves stuck his head gingerly through the wall, hoping not to be noticed. 

            The Elf was smiling gently now. Her dark eyes burned like the embers, and she reached out a hand to the flames. "Thank you."

            Two vague figures in the fireplace flared as laughter hissed from the wood. "We're just encouraging you enough to go through with it. You don't have to thank us. Your mind was already made up, even if you voice your doubts. Elves are so shady."

            "Oh, be quiet, Anairb. Your race isn't much better."

            The Anairb, Peeves suspected, shrugged fiery shoulders. "Not with the whole Men thing again? We're fine, just in tough spots more often than not. We all have problems."

            All three brooded silently.

            "Well," said the other flame person, Nire, "have you picked the leads yet?"

            "I hope it's that Granger girl. She's got quite a bit of passion. Especially for the redhead boy."

            "The redhead boy wasn't too bad either."

            Letalis smiled. "You'll just have to wait like everyone else. It could be Ron and Hermione. Draco and Lavender. Harry and Pansy. Neville and Luna. Who knows? Infinite possibilities."

            "We know you'll go with the ones who already have the possibility. They can shape that beautifully, and you know that, you old bat."

            "I am not old."

            "Yeah, only 2, 341. Not old at all."

            The fire snickered and sputtered out of existence. Letalis stared at it quietly and turned around, smiling grimly.

            "Well, Peeves. Should it be Hermione and Ron? Draco? Parvati? Colin?"

            Peeves looked momentarily startled before he blew a loud raspberry and disappeared.

            "I don't know either," muttered Letalis to herself. "Which ones... which ones..."

            Letalis toyed with the question for hours before settling into a dreamless sleep.  

...

The next morning excited whispers stirred Harry from his awkward position in his armchair. His head felt like it was hanging on by an inch of skin like Sir Nicolas'. After bemoaning the sad state of his joints, Harry noticed the dozens of early risers and tuned in to the quiet talking rushing around the room.

            "Do you think she's decided already?" questioned Colin.

            "Oh, I hope I get to be Satine!" came a piercing and girlish voice, inevitably Lavender or Parvati.

            "Come on Nev, stop trying to tango. I want to see if the cast list is up!" was Ginny's impatient reply to Neville's attempt of engaging her in a twirl.

            Groggily, Harry remembered the yesterday's events and smiled. Despite the fact that Ron and Hermione were in a row yet again, Harry was bubbling with a shocking excitement that he couldn't recall experiencing before. He looked around for Ron and Hermione and spotted them. At opposite ends of the common room. Harry sighed in resignation. Hermione saw that he had woken up and waved jovially. Harry grinned weakly and motioned her over. She walked away from Lavender and Parvati, not looking the least bit upset about leaving the two giddy girls.

            "Good morning, Harry," she said cheerfully, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary with the flair of the best Broadway actress.

            "'Lo, Hermione," Harry replied, "why hasn't anyone left yet?" he asked while he glanced over the room of the restless sixth and seventh year Gryffindors. 

            "Oh, we decided that we all wanted to go down together to look. You know, moral support and that. We were waiting on you, actually."

            "Oh, well- I guess I'm set now. You think they'll mind if I'm in my nightwear?" he pondered out loud but was drowned out by many cheers from the rest of the Gryffindors.             "Ron, over here!" Harry shouted above the chaos. Hermione pursed her lips in an uncanny imitation of McGonagall. Ron trudged over to where they were sitting.

            "Morning, Harry. Hermione." Ron mumbled quickly.

            "Hi, Ron," Hermione responded coldly. Harry sighed and suggested that they follow the wild pack to the DADA classroom. Ron and Hermione assented without exchanging words. They walked rapidly in heavy silence. When the theater doors came into sight, the trio could hardly miss the clamor of disheveled but impossibly bright students outside. 

I guess the cast list is up then, Harry thought, chuckling inwardly. When everyone finally settled down, a large piece of parchment paper previously posted on the large wooden doors wriggled and folded into a mouth. 

"This is eerily like the Sorting Hat," whispered Ron.

Harry laughed, probably because Ron had said 'eerily.'

The Casting Parchment spoke,

"One day, an Elf came to Hogwarts

to create a drama, of sorts.

Quite soon she found

That theatric talent abounds

In that lovely little castle called Hogwarts."

"Ahem. Now. Please step inside, take a seat, and I shall scroll through the cast and crew list." If the Parchment had had eyes, it would have glared because of the lack of applause. "I tell you, a piece of paper never gets as much notice as a talking hat. Bloody textiles."

Seamus shook his head, "Nah, I think it's just the limericks. Not too impressive. The Irish have plenty of other poetic sources. You should recite an epic ballad next time around."

The Parchment was silent a moment. "You think so? Well, all right. Note to self: learn iambic pentameter. Well, inside, you cheeky folks."

As they filed in, the Parchment took center stage. "Now listen, all of you. I'm only going through once. Don't ask me to repeat myself because you weren't paying attention. First smart-arse who thinks about doing it to peeve me gets a thousand paper cuts. In between their toes. Capice?"

Everyone sat stunned.

"Isn't it zero tolerance to threaten violence?" inquired Dean.

"Even if it's paper?" Seamus snickered back. 

"Parchment, thank you," said the Casting Parchment.

And with that, shiny black words rolled up the expanse of the Parchment and stopped dead center.

Moulin Rouge 

            Not a single person breathed.

Crew

Pansy Parkinson .... Make-up Head

Anthony Goldstein .... Lighting Head

Justin Finch-Fletchley .... Sound Head

Theodore Nott .... Stage Manager

Zacharias Smith  .... Costume Manager

Terry Boot .... Prop King

Chorus

Mandy Brocklehurst

Lisa Turpin

Susan Bones

Millicent Bulstrode

Dean Thomas

Michael Corner

Ernie Macmillan

Blaise Zabini

Cast

Colin Creevey .... Henri Toulouse-Lautrec

Harry Potter .... Harold Zidler

Draco Malfoy .... The Duke

Seamus Finnegan .... The Doctor

Neville Longbottom .... The Unconscious Argentinean

Gregory Goyle .... Satie

Hannah Abbot .... Marie

Ginny Weasley .... Nini Legs-in-the-Air

Lavender Brown.... Arabia

Parvati Patil .... China Doll

Padma Patil .... Môme Fromage

Vincent Crabbe .... Audrey

Luna Lovegood .... The Green Fairy

Congratulations rippled through the theater, but everyone kept it quiet because they were all anticipating the announcement of the leading rolls...

And now, Hogwarts Theater is proud to introduce the stars of this years' production.

Leading as Satine...

Hermione Granger

And as Christian...

Ron Weasley

Congratulations to everyone! This was a very hard decision to make, as you are ridiculously gifted. Our first rehearsal will be tonight after dinner. I expect to see everyone there.

Professor Letalis

            Surprise did not even scratch the surface of what everyone was feeling.      

            Only after the cast list faded did the talking begin. 

            "I get to tango!" shouted an ecstatic Neville. "Ginny, I get to tango with you!" 

            "Oh, that's just absolutely corking," Ginny replied, looking sorrowfully at her toes. Neville flew over to her and pulled her into a preposterous version of the tango. "Thank Merlin for choreographers!" Ginny exclaimed as Neville dropped her.

            "Oops. Sorry there, Ginny." Neville blushed a painful scarlet as he helped her up.

            Lavender and Parvati were in a fix. They weren't sure whether to be happy they got parts or upset that they were cast as whores.

            Harry couldn't quite remember who his character was, so he asked. As Seamus so politely put it, he was "the ringleader of all the pretty prostitutes." 

            "Ah. Well, isn't that just swell?" was Harry's embarrassed reply.

            "It's a good part, Harry," said Luna Lovegood as she drifted over. "I'm a fairy this time. I'd rather have been Tinkerbell, but I suppose a decent Hook is too much to ask."

            Harry, Dean, and Seamus stared at her in consternation.

            "What's she on about?" mouthed Seamus.

            Dean put up his hands in surrender and Harry said, "Not a bloody clue." 

            Ron and Hermione were still looking at the cast list in disbelief. Neither had moved for a few minutes, and Harry was beginning to get worried. Was either of them even breathing? Slowly, a smile spread across Hermione's face. 

            "Oh, Ron! We're the leads!" was all she could exclaim as she threw her arms around a flabbergasted Ron. Harry smiled knowingly behind his hand.

...

            Ron's face was the first thing Hermione remembered when she had woken up that morning. The details of their fight made her stomach twist and curl painfully. It wasn't even Hermione's fault. She hadn't known that actual physical contact of the mouth wasn't mandatory... okay, she had, really. But her reason was different than Ron's. He only wanted to upset her. She had only kissed Draco in a moment of insanity. She sighed and reluctantly left the comfort of her bed, listening absentmindedly to Lavender and Parvati's squealing gibberish. She resolved to ignore Ron until he apologized. It would be hard, since all she wanted to do was explain to him exactly why she had kissed Draco. But silence was better than the humiliation she would suffer if she did that.

Hermione's plan was going reasonably well until the leads were announced. Then her carefully formed barriers tumbled, and thoughts crammed so hard into her head, she was worried Ron would hear them.

Oh! I got Satine, and Ron got Christian, and oh! That means that I'm going to get to kiss him! Just like it was on stage with Malfoy, only now it will really be Ron! Oh Hermione, you're positively nutters. What if he doesn't want to kiss me? Or what if I'm a horrific snogger? Although Malfoy did seem to think I was decent...no! Do not think about that. Oh no I have to kiss him too. He's the duke. I wonder what Ron thinks about all of this. Knowing Ron, he's probably thinking about Quidditch or something equally unimportant. Well, I'll make him think about this.

            At exactly that moment, Hermione hurled herself onto Ron, latching on desperately and bubbling over with nonsensical ramblings. Ron peered down at Hermione bemusedly because his previous silent best friend was now hardly inhaling as she spoke beyond his comprehension level. Girls were bloody weird.

            "Er, yes we are!" he responded pathetically. Hermione looked into his eyes and laughed. Ron caught his breath before laughing too. The fight dissipated between them. As a shriek bounced after the beams and walls, Hermione gradually released Ron and turned to see the commotion.

            "Make-up?! I'm on the crew?!" came a wailing, whiny voice that could only belong to Pansy Parkinson. 

            "Calm down, Pansy, it's only a bloody play!" Draco announced, sounding peeved enough to sic the Casting Parchment on her. 

            "Only a play? Oh that's easy for you to say, Mr. Duke! My mother will die if she finds out that- that Mudblood got the part of me!" Pansy replied with dramatic flourish.

            "And I thought you wouldn't have the heart to play a Muggle, Pansy," said Harry dryly.

             Ignoring him, Pansy went on. "And I wanted to be Satine so you could be Christian, Draco." She clapped her hands over her mouth in horror and bolted from the room. Draco watched her go, on the verge of hysterical laughter. 

            "Leave the acting to all the Gryffindor twits and me, Pansy," he called to her, letting a few short laughs echo after her. 

            "Well! This will be quite the experience," Draco drawled. "And I see that I shall have the pleasure of a few- intimate moments with a certain someone. But I promise I'll be gentle." He looked directly at Hermione, and the leering gaze brought a shiver racing down her spine. He came up to her, pressing his mouth lightly against her ear. "Looking forward to it, Granger," he whispered suggestively. He turned dramatically and sauntered away. Hermione felt her knees give out as she watched him leave with her mouth gaping. 

            "What did he say to you, 'Mione?" Ron growled as he steadied her.

            "Nothing!" Hermione squeaked and jumped back. "Nothing of any importance." She took a deep breath. "Come on now, we need to go to Herbology." Thankfully, Ron let the topic slide, and the trio walked to the greenhouse, chatting excitedly about their parts.

            Dinner that night was something else. None of the sixth or seventh years wasted a single moment. They devoured the food with such an alarming rate, a teary House Elf came out to Dumbledore and sobbingly said they'd run out of breaded pudding.

            Most everyone felt guilty and slowed down their pace but continued to eat steadily. Within seconds after finishing, they all raced to the theater.

            Letalis was sitting calmly, in midair. She floated unperturbed in rosy light, smiling beatifically at the students as they came in quietly.

            "Welcome to Hogwarts' First Musical, Moulin Rouge!" The grin on her face was splendid. Everyone caught onto her enthusiasm and cheered.

            "I'm so proud of all of you. Every single one of you managed to shock and stir my senses. There is such talent in you.

            "I will spend time with each of you individually. Starting with the cast and then crew. Later I will introduce the professors who have agreed to help make this show a success. We will begin rehearsing scenes one at time. First we will fine-tune the acting. Then the singing. Then the dancing. And finally the technical cues. So crew, you won't have to come for a while except for specified meetings when we'll do techie practices. You can come if you'd like. Be our first audience. It would help the producer to receive outside input. But you must be sworn to secrecy. As all the cast must be.

            "Cast as a whole will be divided among our choral director and choreographer. The dialect coach will help those of you who need it. For the first week or so of practices, I will be concentrating much of my attention on the leads.

            "All right, people. Let's get to work." With a wave of her hand, everyone stood up and rushed the stage, glowing in electric lights. They looked spectacular.


	4. And now, Introducing the Stars of the Sh...

Hogwarts' First Musical

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance/Comedy

Pairing: R/Hr, perhaps more later

Disclaimer: All characters and setting belong to J.K. Rowling. We receive no profit from this. Only the OC (Professor Letalis) belongs to us. Moulin Rouge doesn't belong to us either.

Letalis looked over her cast, smiling slightly. She stood for several minutes, watching the enthusiasm in the students' faces. They glowed with the kind of light a thousand candles couldn't fade. Then the shuffling of feet reminded her of the fact that she had been just standing there, grinning ridiculously at them. 

"All right, you can sit back down now. Scripts are being passed around, everyone may take one." With that, the Casting Parchment popped out of nowhere, mumbling to itself. "No respect from bloody Wizards, oh now, enchanted talking things are much too commonplace in our world, Mr. Parchment."

"Ahem." Letalis looked critically at the Parchment.

"Yes, yes, I'm going, Master." The Parchment whispered a few dubious words, and it elongated to this massive sheet of paper. Like Charmin's. Only when the Parchment tore itself dramatically into numerous pieces did it become apparent that it was in fact not toilet paper, but scripts.

"Letalis will be fine, Sir Casting Parchment." Many students felt the intense need to giggle, but the critical stare of their Professor subdued the desire.

 " Now I shall introduce you to the professors involved in this production." The students leaned back in their seats, absorbing the fact they and Letalis would not be the only ones in Moulin Rouge. They cast furtive glances to the other side of the room where now quite obviously, their other professors stood in silence.

"As you already know, I am the director of Moulin Rouge," Letalis said with authority, "However, a director cannot hope to do everything by herself. So many of your professors kindly agreed to assist me. First, I'd like to introduce your warm-up instructor, Madame Hooch. This play will require strenuous dancing, and I won't have anyone getting hurt because they forgot loosen their tendons. Madame Hooch will see that you are all adequately stretched before we begin rehearsing." Madame Hooch stood up and waved at the students, who were all clapping appreciatively. 

"In the event you do take the phrase 'Break a leg' to its literal extent, Madame Pomfrey will act as our Nurse. She has told me to threaten you all with a nasty concoction if you hurt yourself unnecessarily." A simultaneous gulp ran through the gathering. Even the professors looked vaguely pained. 

"Now, next we have the prompter. A prompter is very important to any production. They ensure smooth rehearsals when you all forget your lines, which you will, of course. Professor Trelawney has agreed to be our prompter, though she did not agree to come tonight because the Fates have informed her that she is busy tonight." Letalis smirked and the students could have sworn McGonagall snickered, although her face was blank when they checked. "But I'm sure you'll be seeing her here soon enough." Hermione's face twisted in disgust, and Ron and Harry muffled their laughter at her expression.

"Two very important people are the choral director and the musical director, as you will be working with them frequently throughout the play. Professor McGonagall will be your vocal coach, and Professor Flitwick will be in charge of the musical instruments." Both teachers stood up, and the students clapped while giggling at the thought of Flitwick playing the piano. Could he even reach the piano keys? 

"I had to pull some strings from outside of Hogwarts for the next person. I'm sure many of you remember Remus Lupin. He has come in especially for this production, and we're very glad to have him. He will be assisting the crew, as his position is the technical director." Letalis looked at Lupin dreamily before turning away.

"Harry, did you see how Professor Letalis stared at Professor Lupin a second ago?" Hermione looked puzzled at the strange sight. How did Letalis know Remus, and why in Gringotts did she look at him like that?

"Uh huh," Harry said distractedly, looking for Remus in the crowd of professors. When he spotted him, Tonks looked over and waved cheerily at him. 

"Hermione, Tonks is here!" He exclaimed under his breath. 

"Really. How odd. Lupin and Tonks. I wonder what happened in the..." But her voice faltered as Letalis began her introductions again. 

"Also from the outside world is our dialect coach. Most of the play's characters are British. However, there are a few that will require assistance with their accents. Helping us in this particular department is Nymphadora Tonks." 

Tonks lurched from her seat, precariously balanced and said loudly, "Oh, you know how much I hate my first name, Letty! Please just call me Tonks." She waved cheerily, which caused her hair to pop into a strange pale green. 

"What the bloody hell is wrong with her hair?" asked Malfoy in a rather loud undertone.

"Well, you see, I'm a-"

Before Tonks could launch into a detailed explanation of Metamorphmagus, Lupin caught the daggers Letalis was sending the young woman her way and gently pulled her into her seat. "Now's not the time, Tonks."

Sitting down with a huge grin, she leaned over to Lupin and whispered in his ear, giggling into her hand.

"Of course!" Letalis exclaimed, her voice squeaking several octaves higher. Clearing her throat of its strange new pitch, she continued with seeming nonchalance.

 "Hagrid has graciously agreed to design and construct the intricate set for us, though he wasn't able to attend tonight. And now for our final introduction. Moulin Rouge is a play that centers around the art of dance. For your choreographer, I have chosen someone well versed, ah footed, of this particular skill. Everyone on stage will dance, so you must be on your best behavior for Professor Snape." 

This announcement caused a strange reaction from the multitude of students. The Slytherins burst into fervent applause, Ron choked on the air he had just inhaled, and Neville slumped into a faint.

Standing up and stretching to his full height, Snape rose one eyebrow elegantly and inquired with a smirk, "Mr. Weasley," Snape said slowly, "do you doubt my ability to take the lot of you bumbling fools and train you into well-disciplined dancers? I do hope not. I have no doubt of your- talent. I realize your character does not dance quite as much as the rest. Pity that I won't get the chance to work with you." Ron just stared in mute horror. "Do take Longbottom to Madame Pomfrey after Professor Letalis is finished." He sat down with something that Ron knew instinctually to be a flourish.

"Thank you, Professor Snape!" Letalis said, clapping quickly, hoping the students would do the same. She sighed in relief as they dully followed suit.

"We are finished for tonight. Another round of applause for the professors who gave up their time to come to this first meeting. The cast will be having their first read-through Monday. You are dismissed," Letalis finished before walking towards Lupin and Tonks. The students chatted excitedly as they left. 

"Wow, Ron, your load of lines is enormous," Harry commented. "So are yours, Hermione."

"Oh, I don't know when I'll ever have time to learn these!" Hermione moaned, "What with preparing for the N.E.W.T.'s and all."

"'Mione, you've been prepared for those sodding exams since first year," Ron interjected irritably. Hermione glared before laughing helplessly. Neither of them could be upset with the other for very long. They entered Gryffindor Tower, and after saying their good nights, headed up to their respective rooms. Once Ron and Harry had reached the boys' dormitory, they noticed that the rest of their friends were already there, discussing their roles. 

"Hey Harry! Hi, Ron," Dean greeted them. "We were just talking about the fact that Neville gets to practically molest your sister!" he finished cheerfully as Neville threw a pillow at him, darkening into a motley purple blush. 

"What?" Ron exclaimed. He had been so preoccupied with thinking about his part that he didn't even remember what his friends had gotten. The boys laughed at his bewildered expression.

"Don't worry about it too much, Ron," Neville said, "I think Ginny's about as happy as you are on this matter." Harry rolled his eyes as Neville pushed his foot along the floor. Poor Neville. His self-esteem was pitiful.

"So, Ron, you must be pretty excited," Seamus started, "You got the lead, and you get to snog Hermione, like, the entire play!" Everyone but Ron snickered.

"What makes you think I'd want to go and snog Hermione?" Ron said, his ears turning red. "It's late. I'm going to bed." 

The boys followed him to the bathroom, puckering their lips and making lewd comments to each other.

Ron ducked into the room, sighing in relief to be away from them all.

...

            "Don't worry, Hermione! Ron's a great kisser! Trust me, I know," Lavender gushed as Hermione watched the two girls opposite of her, completely horrified. 

            "I really wasn't worried about that," Hermione said quickly. 

            "Oh, of course you weren't," teased Parvati. "I think we all know just how you feel about this, though don't we?" she finished, while Lavender nodded in solemn agreement. 

            "Of course you know exactly how I feel! I'm excited, naturally. Anyone who got the lead would be," Hermione said calmly and rationally. Lavender and Parvati giggled.

            "Oh Hermione, we already know!" Parvati squealed.

            "It's so obvious," agreed Lavender.

            "And what is so obvious, may I ask?" Hermione said primly.

            "That you fancy Ron!" the two girls said in unison, their voices equally giddy.  They batted their eyes at her, doing an astonishingly good impression of Ron when he was shy. Hermione's eyes widened as she tried to think of good response, but all that came out was,

            "You mustn't tell anyone!" 

            _You mustn't tell anyone? What did I say that for? Since when do I have secret crushes that I shared with these two? Oh, here comes the squealing._

            Lavender and Parvati did indeed squeal simultaneously before hugging Hermione.

            "Oh, this is perfect! You two would make the cutest couple, wouldn't they, Parvati?" Lavender sighed. "This will be so much fun!"

            "Don't get so excited," Hermione said reluctantly, "I'm pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way about me. And I don't really want to find out."

            "Ah, unrequited love," Parvati said, "We all know it so well." Lavender giggled uncontrollably as Hermione stared in shock. _What have I got myself into?_

 Lavender was dating Seamus, Parvati was dating Dean, and they had been doing so ever since the moment they decided that they liked them. Unrequited, her arse. They were beautiful. Any boy they had an even remote interest perked up at the gossip of it. Hermione had a bit of a harder time with it. She sighed. Did Ron ever feel like this about any girl? Hermione hoped he didn't. It really wasn't fun at all.

...

Ron snuck quietly into the room, hoping everyone was asleep. He thanked Merlin personally when he heard light snores reverberating. Ron went through his routine of bedtime rituals thoughtlessly, letting his mind drift over the reality of being Christian.

Truthfully, he was excited, thrilled even. The fact that he had gotten something over every other seventh and sixth year at Hogwarts was enough that he felt he had conquered the entire British Broadway. 

            Ron had been surprised when he had read the scene. He hadn't known he would sound so desperate, so stricken with this indefinable and overwhelming emotion. He hadn't know Lavender's face would shift and become one so much more beautiful, his throat ached. He had been almost frantic with the need to kiss her. 

            He had been angry, too. Ron couldn't remember exactly why. He didn't really care. Probably because he thought he had no chance against Harry or Malfoy. They ruled the school in all every aspect Ron cared to note.

            But the fact that he was a good actor, that he had a chance to be good at something, made him happier than he could ever remember being. Except when he had helped win the Quidditch Cup, but that seemed pure accident, not his sheer skill.

            Ron thought to the cast list, which he finally managed to recall after a few hours of pushing past the shock and dizzy joy that clouded the names.

            All his good friends got parts, so acting on stage would them would be the greatest thing he could think of. Ron loved Quidditch more than anything, but somehow it excluded masses of people. Now everyone was involved.

            The part he was most thrilled with was Hermione's. The fact that he wouldn't have to act with such stupid girl that giggled in every love scene lifted him up where he belonged. The thought brought a huge smile to his face. He wondered if Hermione would study how to be a good actress.

            Well, she was obviously a good actress. So maybe a good prostitute? Ron had the insane urge to giggle akin to the girls he had just mentally berated. A good lover? A snort escaped from his mouth before he could stop it.

            "Ron?"

            "Yeah, Harry?"

            "Stop laughing about Hermione. You're going to have to act like a lovesick House Elf too, you know."

            Ron sputtered before grinning slyly, "Harry?"

            "Yeah?"

            "Don't ever use the term 'lovesick House Elf' in my presence again. Please. Tell Dobby the same."

            Harry laughed quietly. "All right, Ron." Harry heard Ron turn over and settle into sleep. "But you're not fooling anyone, mate," he said softly as Ron's snores joined the chorus.


	5. A Most Curious Professor

**Hogwarts' First Musical**

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance/Comedy

Pairing: R/Hr, perhaps more later

Disclaimer: All characters and setting belong to J.K. Rowling. We receive no profit from this. Only the OC (Professor Letalis) belongs to us. Moulin Rouge doesn't belong to us either.

A/N: Well, our A/N from the last chapter got deleted because we didn't know you weren't allowed to have separate chapters for an A/N. Oh well! If you didn't read it, it basically said sorry for such a long delay on Chapter 4. To make up for it, Chapter 5 came out in less than a week! Plus, it's a much better chapter than the last one, in our oh so humble opinions. 

Also, IMPORTANT: If you haven't seen _Moulin Rouge_, and don't want it ruined, watch the movie! There's nothing in this chapter that would spoil it, but there might be in the next ones. So, now enjoy this chapter!

            Ron looked around in confusion. He was sitting at a small table, surrounded by people he recognized as his friends and schoolmates. Yet they all wore ridiculous suits and had the most eager expressions in their over bright eyes. Expectancy laced the air like one of Fred and George's new concoctions. 

            "Er, yes?" Ron asked hesitantly.

            A very short blond man that looked suspiciously like Colin Creevey leaned over and stuttered excitedly, "Well, g-go on! S-satine's waiting!" With that, the entire group of strangely familiar men pushed him into the throng of activity he had failed to notice earlier. And for once in his life, Ron really did wonder if Hermione was right. Maybe he was oblivious.

            How he could have missed the flying of brightly colored skirts, the leer of brightly colored faces, the drunken howl of hundreds of voices, and the general roar of music, Ron could not fathom.

            Women whirled innocent young men in circles, glitter marking their spiraling path. Older men less inclined to dancing and more to other intimate activities waited hungrily on the sidelines. Ron looked longingly at the table he had left moments ago. He could almost taste the quiet, even a bit of the first alcoholic beverage he could have experienced. If whoever this woman was hadn't been…

            And that's where Ron's train of thought screeched to a halt. His breath was silent in his chest. A breath-taking woman in a skimpy silver outfit pouted viciously at him, dark brown eyes beckoning him. Ron stumbled and fell into her arms, being pulled into a tango. 

            "I c-can't dance," he muttered.

            "Oh, but I think you can," murmured the woman, who propelled them across the floor with such determination; Ron wondered where they were going.

            _I'll go anywhere with her. _Ron stole another looked at the expanse of pale skin and brown curls. Suddenly everything felt so real and familiar he could almost put at a name on it. Right as his tongue was forming the right words, Ron jolted out of the sparkling atmosphere and right into the reality of red and gold and Harry shaking him awake.

            "Ron, you bloody git, we're going to be late for DADA! C'mon, it's a first day for Mordred's sake! Letalis will murder you if you're not there. You are the star of the play, you know," yelped Harry.

            "Yeah, yeah, give me a bleedin' second, will you?"

            In a remarkably small amount of time, Ron was presentable (or at least awake and moving sluggishly) enough to leave the Gryffindor common room. They entered into the classroom, without breath or any supplies just as the final grain of sand fell in the hourglass.

            "Good morning, gentlemen. Please take a seat." Letalis looked impeccable as usual. The green robes she wore were elegant and casual in the same heartbeat. All the girls were a little bit envious. Just a little.

            Hermione Granger was disgusted, however. How boys could be tardy and disgraceful in appearance was beyond her.

            Ron plopped beside her and whispered, "You bring me any breakfast, 'Mione?"

            Sighing she slipped crescents into Ron and Harry's anxious hands. "Thanks" they murmured between stealthy bites.

            "I recommend all of you get a good amount of sleep and food during the course of this play. The schedule will be rigorous."

            She stared at the two boys blankly until they flushed in embarrassment.

            "Moving on. Today we will discussing a different kind of magic. This goes beyond the wand. Beyond any sort of medium, in fact. Does anyone know what I'm talking about?"

            Hermione's hand shot up faster than a Quidditch player takes to the sky, but a different voice answered first.

            "You're talking about wandless magic, of course," drawled Malfoy, "It's when a Wizard finds the power inside him or herself and learns to harness it." He smirked, pleased with the shocked reaction of the class.

            "Very good, Mr. Malfoy. 5 points to Slytherin."

            Now everyone gasped in surprise. Only Professor Snape doled out any reasonable amount of points (and usually not even reasonable) to the Slytherins. Exactly whose side was she on, anyway?

            "Now, we will not be practicing much wandless magic here. It is wild and unpredictable. Do not toy with it because although you might understand its basics, its true mechanics are much more complex and hidden. Only very powerful Wizards can truly master the delicate of art of raw magic."

            "It's usually Purebloods," remarked Malfoy in an offhandedly-condescending way.

            "As a matter of fact, this is proven to be untrue. Purebloods are very strong indeed, but their magic is specific to intricate spells and potions. Halfbloods have the advantage of Muggle and Wizard magic."

            "Muggle Magic?" asked Neville in shock.

            "Yes, quite so, Mr. Longbottom. Although some would say it does not exist, I have come into contact with it multiple times. Going past the common Muggles' very unique adaptations to life without magic, Muggles have been found to have a deep channeling for magic. Usually it is buried so far into their psyche, they cannot fully comprehend it.

            "Psychics or Pagans are good examples. Psychics are usually mystic old women who tell fortunes from smoke and tea leaves." She smiled slightly as those who had Trelawney snickered. "But some are truly in touch with the future. Or with objects so they move."

            "Telekineticy!" exclaimed Hermione. 

            "Exactly. These phenomenon are considered mutations. In fact, they are simply a glitch in the genetic make-up of Muggles, causing them to be far ahead of their time, like most geniuses.

            "Pagans, on the other hand, are most commonly late blooming Witches and Wizards. Or Muggles that are aware of our race. Either way, they are secretive and strong in their own way. So Muggle Magic is quite real, just not as developed as one might believe."

            "Well, I believe it's time for a class change. Move along then. We'll begin on the study of wandless magic tomorrow." She rose gracefully and disappeared through the wall.

            "Um, she didn't just walk through stone, did she?" Seamus asked nervously.

            "Actually, she did, Seamus. Elves have the unique ability to Apparate in what is called a shimmer. A shimmer gives a ghost like quality to where their body formerly was and creates the illusion of walking through things."

            Harry stared in utter amazement. "Hermione, you're an Einstein."

            "A who?" asked Seamus in confusion.

            "In Wizard lingo, a Merlin."

            Seamus laughed. "Well we all bloody knew that."

            Hermione blushed and Ron couldn't remember why he recognized the duck of her head and the color of cheeks so acutely. But he did.

            …

            Lunch had finally arrived, and none too quickly for Ron and Harry. They both sat down, staring lovingly at the mountains of food.

            "I do like spotted dick." Ron sighed in content. 

            "Oh, look!" Harry mouthed through a cheek full of potatoes "It's Lupin! I got to say hi." Harry jumped up and stumbled over, gravy in the curve of his smile.

            "Hey, Hermione," Ron spoke quietly in her ear, "You think Harry's happy?"

            Hermione knitted her eyebrows in confusion, "Why, yes, Ron, I do-"

            Ron shook his head violently, "No, no. I mean, is he really okay? He doesn't seem to be worrying about Voldemort so much now, with the play and all."  
            Hermione's shock put her several levels above speaking.

            "And now Lupin's back. I'm glad and all, but I'm worried it could mean Voldemort's up to something, yeah? Lupin looks kind of sick and wan. He always does, but he seems to be really straining. You think it could be trouble for Harry?"

            Ron's worried look touched Hermione so deeply she wanted to weep. He wasn't oblivious. It was all in act to get Harry to open up to Ron in the only way Ron knew how. 

            "I think he's okay, Ron. Dumbledore's learned that keeping secrets from Harry for too long isn't the best idea. I still remember fifth year." Hermione rubbed her temples in consternation. "I think we'll find out what's going on soon enough. Let's just let Harry enjoy Lupin's company for now. Without questions. He's so happy to see him."

            "Yeah, so am I. I always wonder if I'll ever see any of the Order again, you know? You never know what nasty business they get themselves involved in…"

            "You're right, Ron. That's why I'm so glad the Professor is here. Letalis seems to be happy too."

            "What are you on about, Hermione?"

            Okay, maybe Ron really was a numbskull.

            "Never mind," she muttered, "Let's go say hello to Lupin. No bothering him, all right? Even if we did need to know questions now, I'd feel so guilty. He looks exhausted."

            "War will do that to you," Ron said softly.

            They both went up to join Harry and Lupin. They just heard Harry's abrupt, delighted laugh and Lupin's tired face managed a smile.

            "It's good to have you back, Professor," Hermione said with a grin.

            "Jolly good, in fact," was Ron's addition.

            "I'm glad to be back. I've missed you three. Not been in too much mischief, I hope." His tone was serious but his eyes danced. 

            "So, how'd you land the wonderful position of technical producer?" Hermione wondered aloud.

            Lupin laughed. "Dumbledore said an old friend needed some assistance so off I went. I wanted to check in on everyone, so it was as good an excuse as any."

            "Old friend?" inquired Ron with an arched eyebrow.

            "Ron," Hermione growled in an undertone.

            Harry looked confused but Lupin only quirked his lips. "Yes. Professor Letalis and I got quite some time back. We've been out of touch for years, but it happens to friends. It will be nice seeing her again."

            Just then, Lupin's neck twisted in a painful position, his eyes staring fixatedly at the door.

            "Remus, what's-" Harry began earnestly till he saw who Lupin was watching.

            Letalis moved liked green liquid across the Hall. She kept her eyes steadily in front of her till she stopped suddenly and turned her dark eyes to watch Lupin quietly.

            Lupin gaped and winced in pain, his hands going to his forehead. He whimpered inaudibly, but Harry felt the sound in his hand on Lupin's shoulder. He drew back a little.

            "Professor, are you all right?" asked Hermione, her voice similar to Mrs. Weasley.

            "I'm fine. Just a little spell there." He clamped his mouth shut, as if he had given away private information. Something strange was afoot.

            Letalis slowly turned from them and continued to her customary seat beside Professor Sprout. Her serene face spasmed in a moment of pain as Tonks flounced into the chair next to her, chattering jovially. Letalis forced a smile and seemed to exchange pleasantries.

            Lupin watched the two of them for a second, emotions flashing quickly in his eyes. "Well, you'd better go finish your meals before they get cold." With a parting smile, he limped from the table and out the door. 

            "Well, that was certainly odd," remarked Hermione.

            "Huh. No questions still, Hermione?" Ron quipped.

            "Not yet, Ron. Not yet," was her distracted reply.

"What on earth are you two talking about?" said Harry irritably.

            None of them noticed that many of the professors watched Lupin's trudging progress from the Hall in a sad silence.

            …

Ron sat in Potions staring blankly into his cauldron, not comprehending either the ingredients or the reason he was here in a class no longer mandatory. He also wondered why Snape had even allowed him back into the class. He had failed the O.W.L. for Potions spectacularly, so it was very strange that Snape accepted him again. Perhaps Snape was a masochist and enjoyed causing himself pain.

"Staring at the cauldron won't make the Enemigus Deflectus potion, Ron," Harry said, startling him out of his daze. 

"Yes, I'm working on it!" Ron replied indignantly. 

Nobody spoke about the potion they were making because normal teenage wizards shouldn't even know that it existed. However, times were different during war. Hogwarts students had to know how to make a powerful radar potion and how to use it any time they went left school. Another security measure that the students despised but calmly accepted as the reality of Voldemort and his gathering forces became bolder. Lupin's abrupt entrance into the dungeon interrupted Ron's depressed train of thought, and he curiously looked up to see the two men whispering. Ron caught Seamus Finnigan's eye and grabbed the Extendable Ear he hid subtly under the desk. He listened intently as Harry and Hermione pretended to focus solely on cutting dittany roots.

"Severus, I need you to brew more potion. You understand what's going on at this time," Lupin said in a quiet, tired voice. Harry and Ron knew immediately that he meant wolfsbane potion. Only Hermione looked perplexed by Lupin's request.

"It won't be effective, even if it was mixed already. You need to talk to Letalis." How exactly did Snape sneer and whisper simultaneously?

"Right. Of course. Sorry for barraging in on your class," Lupin murmured as he walked out quickly. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other in confusion when Snape suddenly announced that class was dismissed. Everyone else looked at him in shock. Snape never dismissed class early, especially when no one had finished their assignment. 

"Professor, I haven't quite had time to finish this potion," Draco stated before he was cut short. 

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I am well aware. Must I dismiss you a second time?" Snape said archly. Yet as he sat down, the students couldn't help but notice his pained expression. Draco examined Snape but packed his things and left. The trio hurried out, eager to discuss the mysterious events that had just happened. 

"What was that all about?" Ron wondered aloud.

"The full moon isn't for another two weeks," Hermione said quietly. "I don't understand why he would come to Snape for wolfsbane potion right now. It just doesn't make sense!"

"Something's wrong with Lupin," Harry said. "Remember what happened at lunch? I need to talk to him. He's hiding something."

"Right now is probably not the best time to bother him with questions, Harry," Hermione said gently. "I don't think he's up to answering."

"Yeah, Harry, he's seemed pretty put-out. Besides, it's probably none of our business anyway," Ron remarked.

"None of our business? Well, maybe it isn't any of your business, but whatever's wrong with Lupin can probably be linked back to Voldemort and me. He killed my parents, my godfather, and I'll be damned if he kills one of my friends too." Harry growled, storming off. Ron and Hermione watched in mute sadness until they began walking again. 

"Let's go back to the common room until dinner," Ron said softly. Hermione consented with a nod of her head, and they walked back to Gryffindor Tower, comforted by the other's presence.

…

"Bloody war, bloody Voldemort, bloody scar!" Harry muttered nonsensical things as he walked down the corridor before realizing he didn't know where to find Lupin. He recalled Snape's comment about Letalis and marched off towards the DADA room. When he reached the room, he slowed down as he heard voices. He wasn't quite sure why; he just had a feeling that he didn't want to be seen. He looked around the corner cautiously and saw Lupin and Letalis.

"Gilraen, there must be another way," Lupin pleaded, a vague terror and utter exhaustion in his eyes. Letalis made no reply and only looked straight at him, almost through him. Then Lupin's eyes fogged over and haltingly he stepped into the classroom. Harry watched in horror before he bolted for the Gryffindor Tower. 

Letalis watched Lupin impassively before following him and closing the door.

…

In the Great Hall that evening, the Gryffindors chowed down, chatting between mouthfuls as usual, save for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They made casual small talk, carefully avoiding the subject of Harry's outburst earlier that afternoon. Harry was relieved because he had no desire to talk about that or his intrusion on Letalis and Lupin. They finished their meal, and when dinner was over, Hermione broke their silence by announcing practice was starting. 

"I don't want to go tonight," Harry mumbled almost inaudibly.

"Harry, you have to go. You have a lead," Hermione replied matter-of-factly, placing her hands on her hips. 

"Why don't you want to go, mate?" Ron said in a much more understanding fashion.

"I don't want to talk about it here," Harry replied reluctantly. "I'll go to rehearsal and then we'll talk afterwards." Hermione's heart lightened as she shared a glance with Ron. There was hope for them all together after all.

…

"Good evening everyone. Tonight is line run-throughs. Soon I will be scheduling individual meetings with each of you to discuss your character, but for tonight I want to get a feel for how you interact with each other. So, pull out your scripts and we'll begin." As Letalis finished, Neville's face turned ghostly white.

"Professor? I, ah, it seems that I have misplaced, ah well, forgotten my script tonight," Neville let out the last part very quickly. Letalis smiled.

"Well, I believe if you ask the Casting Parchment very nicely, he might possibly loan you one for the evening." Neville looked quite faint as he slowly turned to face the Casting Parchment, which, if parchments could have facial expressions, was looking at Neville quite menacingly. 

"Well, let's have it then! Ask me for a script!" he taunted.

Neville's eyes widened before he cleared his throat and asked, "Mr. Casting Parchment, may I please borrow a script from you tonight?" He winced and quaked with fear. Perhaps Snape had fed the Parchment a strange potion for it seemed the very incarnation of the Potions Master himself.

"Strange how a piece of paper, excuse me, _parchment_, can have such an effect on someone," Ron whispered to Hermione. She giggled in reply, but stopped when she glanced over at Harry. He was concentrating quite hard on Letalis' face. She wanted to know what was going through his head but stayed silent. As she finished her thoughts, Neville was sitting down, having finally wrestled a script from the Casting Parchment, who was looking quite triumphant at the amount of attention he had received. 

"I swear it's Slytherin," said Ron in an undertone.

"Well, I believe we can move on with the rehearsal now. It begins with a song, but we'll be skipping that tonight. Mr. Weasley, you have the first line." Letalis settled into her seat, looking out at the cast and from an audience member's viewpoint. 

"The Moulin Rouge . . . a nightclub, the dance hall of the bordello. Ruled over by Harold Zidler. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures. Where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. And the most beautiful of all these was the woman I loved, Satine…" Ron began his opening speech with a sorrowful tone, and the play progressed from there. Though there had been doubts, Letalis had proven that she knew exactly what she was doing. Everyone was perfect for his or her respective part.

            "A love that will live forever. The End." Ron finished as well as he had begun. Many had never seen _Moulin Rouge_ and found themselves wiping at their eyes as the last words echoed off the beams. 

Letalis smiled benevolently. "Wonderful. That is all for tonight. I will speak to each of you tomorrow and tell you when we shall meet to discuss your character. We will not have a group rehearsal tomorrow night. Thank you, you may…" Letalis slowed as her eyes darted towards the door. All of the students turned around to see as Remus Lupin opened the door. He smiled wanly and gave a timid wave. "Go," Letalis finished suddenly, and she moved quickly towards Lupin, who had taken a seat in the back of the audience.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry hurried out of the theatre, waiting for a chance to discuss the strange events of the day.


	6. The Plot Thickens

****

Hogwarts' First Musical

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance/Comedy

Pairing: R/Hr, perhaps more later

Disclaimer: All characters and setting belong to J.K. Rowling. We receive no profit from this. Only the OC (Professor Letalis) belongs to us. Moulin Rouge doesn't belong to us either.A/N: Two weeks! Ah! We're both very sorry. But this one's long. [Thank our one and only true snow day.] And we'll work on the next one promptly. We might be getting a site for our story. Might. Keep your fingers crossed. Oh. And to make us feel special, send us feedback. We like it. [We're having a party when we hit the 50 mark. Score.]

****

Warning: This is very, very Moulin Rouge-oriented. If you don't want some of it spoiled, watch the movie or read the script. Now. 

Hermione burst into the common room, hair and robes flying behind her. Harry stifled a laugh because she really _did _look like a witch at the moment. Ron was oblivious, as someone has brought up a few jugs of pumpkin juice. 

As he looked up from his cup, pumpkin moustache and all, he furrowed his brow and said, "Hermione, what's eating you? You seem…" he stopped, looking ridiculously pensive despite the line of orange juice above his lip.

"Flustered?" Harry offered.

"Yeah, that one's it," he said with satisfaction.

She whirled around so fast, her robe made a slight cracking sound. Harry and Ron both looked awed.

"I can't help but think there is something very, very wrong with Remus. Even on full moon days, he doesn't act like this. He's tired and resigned, not _frightened_." She paused. "I think he's at Hogwarts because something happened to him on the field."

"Voldemort?" Harry asked, a little stunned.

Hermione nodded. "Dumbledore can protect him here. It has to be."

Ron winced at Harry's mention of You-Know-Who. "Don't you think it could just be an especially straining case of werewolf? I mean, you two seem to be downplaying how painful it really is."

"Well…" Harry stopped.

Hermione looked at him sharply. "Yes, Harry?"

"I saw Lupin with Letalis earlier today. He seemed almost- desperate. And pretty scared. Then suddenly he became really calm when Letalis talked to him."

Hermione whitened. "You don't think…" She trailed off, mumbling phrases like "no proof" and "completely ridiculous".

"Think what?" Ron asked through a mouthful of biscuit.

"Never mind. I'm going to bed. Good night. Get a good sleep. Tomorrow, we start character analysis, the burn-healing paste, and more of Letalis' notes. Good night." Hermione promptly rushed up the girls' staircase.

"You know," Ron said thoughtfully, "I'd run up after her if the girls weren't dressed in their nighties."

Harry smoothed out his bemused expression and turned, grinning, to his best friend. "Why are you letting a few nighties stop you then, eh, mate?" he said cheekily.

Ron sputtered, spilling the pumpkin juice he had been drinking down his shirtfront. "Bloody Mordred, Harry. I know we have House Elves and all, but I don't have _that_ much laundry to spare!" Sputtering, Ron bolted up to the boys' dormitory.

"Ah, aren't we a flustered bunch tonight?" Harry wondered out loud. After staring at the fire for a few moments, he went upstairs also, yawning and smiling hugely.

…

The next morning was a blur. Ron was so exhausted, he could hardly see straight. He missed putting the croissant in his mouth several times at breakfast. Instead, he ended up stuffing a good deal of it up his nose. It hadn't helped that Seamus kept asking him if he wanted the jam with it, which had made Ron spit out his juice all over Neville. Neville sighed mournfully and headed back to the common room for a clean shirt and pants. Ginny and Hermione murmured about boys, rolling their eyes and giggling quietly. 

Potions hadn't gone well either. Ron had the misfortune of cutting more roots and almost took off four fingers of his left hand. Luckily Harry had heard Malfoy and his goons snickering, so he had caught Ron's frenzied movements in time.

Now they were in DADA and Ron was having great trouble keeping his eyes open. They'd been on the subject of mind controlling for days, and Ron really didn't have a long attention span. Hermione kept tickling his neck with her quill feather to keep him awake, but Ron didn't care. He was so tired. His dreams had been insane last night.

Again he dreamed of the beautiful woman, the bright lights, the raucous dancing, all those faces. This time it had been in a very strange, glittery tower. The beautiful woman had been doing… things he'd rather not remember. They were embarrassing. She had kissed him though, and that had been extremely nice.

A sharp jab of Hermione's quill point brought him from his reverie. He smiled benignly and said, "Of course, Professor."

Harry looked at him in slight horror and Ron thought, _Oh dear Elphaba, what have I agreed to now?_

"Thank you for volunteering for the demonstration, Mr. Weasley. You are indeed a true sport." Ron blanched at the sport part but held firm. He grinned tightly.

"Up here, please." 

He marched to the front of the room. He turned towards her and waited.

"Mr. Weasley, for a few moments, I will put you under mind control." Ron 's jaw dropped in horror. "It won't be anything particularly painful, I promise. Some even enjoy it."

He gulped. "What will you make me do?"

"Perhaps I'll just make you jump on the desk and sing a love song to Ms. Granger."

Ron paled so drastically, his freckles whitened also.

"Since she's your lover in the play, Mr. Weasley." Ron immediately felt better. Letalis continued. "I'll just- 

She tilted her head slightly and said something to him. And at the exact moment, Ron really didn't care. He felt light and free because someone was taking care of all the problems for him. No more hard Potions questions, worrying about Hermione and Harry, or being second-rate at everything. Nope, someone else had all the answers for him.

Ron looked at Hermione and smiled beautifully at her. Her feather was in her mouth. It was a Sugar Quill he'd given her a few weeks ago. He didn't think she used them. She smiled tentatively back, but her worry wrinkle was prominent. 

Ron frowned. She mustn't worry. He wasn't at all perturbed. He was perfectly fine. He leaned forward to tell her not to worry, and then he became fascinated with her eyes. They were trying to tell him something, and that something looked quite familiar.

Then Ron blacked out.

…

An hour later, Ron was in a bed, listening rather distractedly to Professor Letalis apologize profusely to him. He even saw a few tears in her dark eyes. He smiled at her and went back to sleep. He was so tired.

Later, Madame Pomfrey woke him up and asked him if he was up for practice. He shot up in bed and yelped, "Practice! I can't be late!"

With that, he ran out of the doors, Pomfrey tutting and smiling as he left.

He panted outside the door. He was just in time. As he bolted through, Letalis looked up almost angrily, "Aren't you supposed to be resting, Mr. Weasley?"

"Er, Madame Pomfrey said I was all right. I feel fine. Just a little funny earlier. I'm good now." Ron could have gone on much longer, sorry for making Letalis ticked off and happy to be in the theater.

"All right, Mr. Weasley. We've split into groups. Professor Snape has taken those who need choreography, Professor McGonagall has taken the chorus, and Mr. Lupin has taken the crew. So everyone else is with me." She smiled, since at the moment it was only Draco, Hermione, and Harry. 

"We were just about to begin discussing everyone's character when you came in. Please, come join us." She motioned and seat folded itself out of thin air. Ron sat down, nervous in the intimate circle. 

"Mr. Malfoy had a marvelous idea. To get everyone into character for the play, this weekend we will watch the American movie production. Mr. Parchment has inked us in."

"And now, Mr. Weasley, we can start with your character."

Ron leaned forward, suddenly very interested. Although he had been skeptical initially, he realized after the first read through how much he was looking forward to this play. Letalis cleared her throat.

"Up, Mr. Weasley." 

Ron looked mightily confused.

"My actors and actresses do not _sit _and snore while I pour out every tiny nuance of their characters' personality. No thank you. Stand center stage."

Ron moved nervously to the center stage when suddenly a blinding light knocked his sight into flashing colors.

"Sorry, Ron! Justin hit the spotlight spell instead of the turning on the MagiPhone," Anthony Goldstein yelled out.

"Yeah, sorry there, Ron. Still getting the hang of it back here."

Ron waved, wincing as his eyes adjusted.

"All right. You are sad and melancholy. Sitting in a drab room of an unknown apartment, remembering a painful beautiful past."

Ron stared at Letalis, utterly lost.

"Well," Letalis said impatiently, "Act it out."

So Ron sat down on a conveniently placed chair and hung his head, pretending to reflect. He looked the epitome of lost dreams.

"There was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy," Letalis sang softly. Ron looked up, still vaguely bewildered.

"In character, Mr. Weasley. Always stay in character."

Ron sighed, taking on a different pose of sorrow so he could watch Letalis at every moment. 

"Christian is the lead, of course. The play is a flashback," Letalis said quietly so she wouldn't break Ron's concentration. "Ms. Granger, come here please. Stand by Mr. Weasley. Good, now stay right there. Now Mr. Weasley. Reach for Ms. Granger."

Desperately, Ron threw his hands out, trying to grab Hermione's arm, sleeve, anything that would bring her closer. Hermione began to reach her hands out to his.

"Now Ms. Granger, take a step back." Shocked for a minute, Hermione stayed put, her fingertips brushing Ron's palm. And then she stepped back.

"This is the agony of lovers torn apart by death. You will experience it three times, Mr. Weasley. Once at the beginning of your flashback, then as Satine dies, and then at the end of the flashback. But it is the element of the entire play.

"Thank you, Ms. Granger. You may sit back down for now."

"Now. The play begins when the play within the play is introduced. The Bohemians need inspiration, and that is Christian. He helps the group of museless men, and they begin to formulate a play entitled _Spectacular Spectacular_."

"Now. Mr. Weasley. Awaken from your dismal present into the more pleasant past. Surprise. A man has fallen through your roof."

Ron jumped back, staring at the invisible body at his feet in weird entrancement.

"And a group of wildly strange men pull you up through the hole and you are now not a sad Christian but a young, naïve, and talented person amidst of group of oddball geniuses."

Ron took on a look of wide incredulity and smiled innocently.

"You believe in love."

"I believe in love, above all else," Ron said, grinning widely.

"Excellent! Well. We have a play. Let's go to Moulin Rouge and ask Satine what she thinks."

"Satine?"

"Yes."

"I think I love that name."

"You will.

"So off we go. Christian, you're supposed to discuss the play with Satine, the most famous and beautiful of Zidler's prostitutes. You end up falling in love with her, but she has been promised to the Duke, who will be monetarily supporting the play that the Bohemians presented."

Ron looked intently on Hermione, moving forward to catch her hand for real this time. But when he sees Draco, he growled. He stood in front of Hermione, not allowing Draco's eyes to be on her. 

"But you believe in the Bohemian ideals of truth, beauty, freedom, and above all else, love. For these reasons, you believe that you and Satine can overcome anything. Even the Duke and his wicked plans." Ron smiled with superiority at Draco, knowing he had something that Draco could never have. Hermione. But Draco only smirked back.

"Satine is your female counterpart."

Hermione stood up, standing beside Ron instead of behind him. She could fight her own battles. 

"She is, as I said before, Zidler's star. She wants to be famous, and believes that Zidler is going to help her achieve this."

Hermione stepped to center stage, spinning around and smiling as seductively as she could pull off. Merlin, this was going to be embarrassing. What would her mother say?

"On the night she is supposed to spend with the Duke, who can give her the fame she so desires, Christian comes in first."

Ron stepped towards Hermione and stares at her in shock and something else. And then he grasped her hands in his and kissed her on the cheek. Hermione looked hypnotized.

"And after realizing who he is, she falls in love with him. However, she has to pretend to be in love with the Duke, or else she may never get her chance to be famous. She isn't as confident as Christian is about their relationship, and she often has doubts. Also, Satine is very sick with a disease now known as tuberculosis, or TB."

Hermione stepped back from Ron, glancing fearfully at Draco. She shook her head and walked in circles around him, ignoring Ron's pleading. She coughed unsteadily into her hands, hiding her handkerchief behind her back as Ron caught up with her.

"Harold Zidler." 

Harry stood up quickly, looking nervously between Draco, Hermione, and Ron. Draco looked hungry and smug. Ron kept trying to glare at him and still looked at Hermione. Hermione stared down at her feet. Harry paced between the two separate groups.

Letalis continued, "Zidler is the manager of the prostitutes. He is the one that arranges for the Duke to meet Satine. He acts as a father figure for her, only doing what he thinks is right. He finds out about Satine and Christian but keeps it secret in fear of losing the Duke's patronage. Zidler tells Satine openly that she is putting the play and her career in jeopardy and tries to convince her to stop her relationship with Christian." 

Harry talked in quiet, desperate tones to Hermione. She looked sad but shook her head. She wouldn't give Ron up. Harry glanced in agitation at Draco. He walked over, a fake and benign smile hiding his worry.

"The last character is the Duke."

Draco stood up, eyebrows raised and the same smug expression earlier. He brushed past Harry and waltzed over to Hermione. He took her hand and kissed it gently. Hermione blushed prettily, her eyes begging Ron to behave.

"He has money and lots of it. The Duke supports _Spectacular Spectacular_. Although he seems a good and generous man; his greed is what made him become the benefactor. He is promised Satine, and he wants her all the time. Satine and Christian don't like this, but have to accept it. The Duke isn't the most observant person, as he doesn't notice anything is going on until someone points it out to him." 

Draco walked around Hermione, eyes grazing over her. Hermione shivered for an inexplicable reason. Ron stares, gritting his teeth in frustration. Harry holds his shoulder firmly. Draco looks up, watching Ron. He shrugs and walks over upstage with Harry. Ron rushed to Hermione, angry and relieved. 

"Well, that's all for tonight," Letalis said, breaking the trance. The four stared at each other in momentary confusion. Letalis smiled.

"On your way out, could you please inform the Bohemians that I'm ready for them. I believe that would be Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Creevey, Mr. Finnegan, Mr. Goyle, and Mr. Crabbe." The four students nodded, murmured their good-byes, and left the theatre. As soon as they had stepped out, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved to gather the Bohemians when Draco cut them off.

"I'll do it," he said simply, and walked off towards the rest of the cast, leaving the trio watching in confusion.

"Did Malfoy just give up an opportunity to make fun of us _and_ offer to do something nice for someone else?" Ron sputtered, not quite believing what had just happened.

"I think he did, Ron," Hermione said, smiling. Ron noticed the smile and scowled. 

"Let's go back to the common room," Harry said, watching them with a slightly puzzled expression on his face.

…

Letalis surveyed her group of young men, her own Bohemians. She smiled, thrilled to be working with her favorite characters. Such talent to be had. 

"Let's just get down to business here, shall we? I'll start with your character, Mr. Creevey. Center stage. Be prepared to act out your character as I describe him. All right?"

Colin nodded, eager as always.

"You are playing Henri Toulouse-Lautrec. He is, well, very short, but only in the movie. He is the default leader of the group. He also wants to find love for himself. The character is based on a real artist. Lautrec was not a midget, but a cripple with deformed legs. He was a French artist from the post-Revolution era. Many of his works are featured at the real Moulin Rouge.

Colin looked excited and awed momentarily before he enthusiastically skipped around the stage, hands fluttering at this and that, as if he was painting the stage himself. Seamus laughed at this. Vincent and Greg started chuckling also. Neville smiled timidly, still obviously intimidated. Snape had been absolutely terrifying.

Colin turned towards them, stuck out his tongue slightly and pretended to paint each of the other Bohemians. He imitated their facial expressions, sending Seamus into a fit of laughter. He was quickly silenced by Letalis' unwavering stare.

"Mr. Longbottom is playing the Unconscious Argentinean."

Giggling, Neville walked center stage and fell into a heap. Even Colin broke character for a second to laugh.

"He is one of the Bohemians. In fact, he is the first one that Christian meets, in a way. He is a narcoleptic, and falls through the roof into Christian's home."

Neville stood up and did a rather clumsy somersault, lying with his eyes closed and lips grinning, at Colin's feet. Colin stopped flitting for a second and checked Neville's pulse. He flashed a thumbs-up to the other Bohemians.

"He also plays the sitar player in _Spectacular Spectacular_; a character based on Christian. He sings the song _Roxanne_, and tangos with the one of the whores, Nini Legs-in-the-Air."

Neville sat up and pretended to play an instrument before jumping up and pulling an invisible partner into a tango. Seamus came along side him, never touching his hands but going through the steps, batting his eyes at Neville. They almost broke character again but Letalis saved them.

"Mr. Finnegan, you are the Doctor. He is also one of the Bohemians. His distinction is that he is good with special effects, and he makes many things blow up. He is also known in his appearance by having a long gray beard."

Seamus left Neville to his tango and stroking a long imaginary beard while pondering something in front of him. He sat up with 'Eureka' all over his face. "By the Charmed sisters, I've done it!"

Then he rolls back, staring in pleased shock at his masterpiece. Colin and Neville also are blown back from some unseen force before continuing with their flitting and tangoing. 

"Satie is being played by Mr. Goyle. Another of the Bohemians, his job is to play the music for _Spectacular Spectacular_."

Greg hopped off the stage, flung out his invisible maestro jacket and sat down on the bench. He then began to play Beethoven very rapidly. The other Bohemians looked surprised but continued. Letalis grinned at Greg. 

"The last of the Bohemians, played by Mr. Crabbe, is Audrey. He is not in much of the play, only the beginning. He is in charge of the Bohemian's play until Christian comes along, when he lives. He also dresses like a woman." Crabbe's face turned pale while the Gryffindors snickered. There was nothing in the script that suggested he had to dress in drag, and this came as quite a shock. 

But Vincent went centerstage, cooed at the other Bohemians and tried to direct them. Suddenly, he stared off in the distance and, sighing in defeat, marched off, looking very similar to McGonagall in the height of fury. The Bohemians were impressed. 

"All right, you're finished. Excellent. I'll enjoy working with you. Please ask the final leads to come in. Miss Weasley, Miss Brown, Miss Abbot, Miss Lovegood, and both Miss Patils, I believe."

…

"Thank you for coming in, ladies. How has dance instruction been?"

The girls were nervous and only nodded shyly. 

Letalis smiled gently and said, "Please move center stage as your character is announced. Act them out as you feel best."

"Miss Abbot, you are playing Marie. She is Satine's mother figure. Whenever Satine is sick, Marie gives her smelling salts or calls the doctor."

Hannah walked stiffly to center. Ginny felt sorry for her, so she moved out with her. Hannah began to slowly worry over Ginny, fanning her and feeling her forehead. Ginny thought it was very good. It reminded her of her mum.

"Miss Lovegood, you are the Green Fairy. This obscure character is seen singing, dancing, and flying about since the Bohemians after they had ingested large amounts of absinthe, a very strong alcohol." Luna smiled dreamily at the prospect of wearing wings.

She then started spinning slowly around stage, giggling and stopping at times to leer and laugh at the intoxicated Bohemians. Luna was very convincing. Letalis would have given her one of the larger parts but Luna had begged for the Green Fairy. It did suit her well, though.

"Miss Weasley, you are the only one of the four whores with a clear distinction in the play. You are the one who plants the idea in the Duke's head that Satine may be in love with Christian."

Ginny smirked, walking delicately to front and center. She did a few can-can kicks with a slightly sneer.

"The rest of you play whores as well. All of you are very skilled can-can dancers. The four whores are also characters that are based on real people, which I find fascinating." 

Parvati and Lavender smiled, having finally gotten over the fact that they were whores. They were thrilled to be in the play.

Then all of the whores, even Luna, joined Ginny in an uncoordinated can-can. They all laughed. This would be fun. 

"That's it," Letalis finished, sighing in content. "You may leave."

…

Letalis sat by the fireplace, brooding. The play would be wonderful. She knew that. But other things bombarded her mind, and she couldn't shake a dark feeling.

"Why so low, Let? You've got the cast of the century," said Nire, who had suddenly appeared in the fire.

"Oh, you two know me. I always brood."

"Well, stop. It isn't doing you any good. You accomplished more in one day than most directors dream of," Anairb retorted.

"It's magic," Letalis replied, smirking.

"That's the spirit!" Anairb said, "Don't let your Elfin tendency to mope get you down. Say, why don't you go say hi to Remus. I know you want to. You two have a lot of catching up to do, after all."

Letalis waved the question away. "Don't bother me. Tell me I'm doing the right thing." She sighed heavily.

"You are. These kids will love you, Let. They already do." Nire said quietly.

"Yes, but-"

"Stop your 'but' and 'maybe' crap. I wanted to tell you that Vincent should make appearances throughout the play. A subplot. You know, he wants to be a can-can dancer so he follows the Bohemians everywhere."

"It's not in script."

"But he's _good._ He'll be a laugh in such a sappy play. Come on."

"I'll think about it."

"And think about Luna, too," said Nire spectactively, "She could be a hit."

Letalis smiled. "You don't just change the script, regardless of-"

A knock sounded at the door. Who could that be?

Nire and Anairb were silent, watching her through the flames.

"Come in," Letalis said solemnly.

Tonks burst through the door. "Hey, Letalis, you got to come quick. Lupin's collapsed in the corridor outside Gryffindor. Dumbledore said to come get you quick. Please hurry." Tonks had tears in her eyes.

"I'm coming." Letalis grabbed her robe and walked silently out the door. Tonks watched her for a moment before following.

The flame figures sighed.

"And the plot thickens," Nire said sarcastically.

"Drama, drama, drama. I say we go to the ice cream parlor to escape it," Anairb replied.

"Good plan."

And all was silent in Letalis' room. 


	7. Yet Another Argument

**Hogwarts' First Musical**  
  
Rating: PG Genre: Romance/Comedy  
  
Pairing: R/Hr, perhaps more later  
  
Disclaimer: All characters and setting belong to J.K. Rowling. We receive no profit from this. Only the OC (Professor Letalis) belongs to us. Moulin Rouge doesn't belong to us either.  
  
A/N: Wheee! We're back! So sorry about the 2 month delay. Also, when we uploaded Chapter 6 we had some problems, so go back and make sure you actually read Chapter 6 before proceeding to Chapter 7, okay? Thank you so much for sticking with us. School's almost out, we're done this week, so updates will come much more regularly, we promise! Now, enjoy this installment of Hogwarts' First Musical! We're quite proud of it.  
  
"Did you hear?" Hermione murmured as she slid into her chair in the Great Hall.  
  
"Hear what?" Harry asked. Ron just moaned from the muffin his face had fallen into.  
  
"Oh, Harry, it's just awful. Lupin's in the Hospital Wing! Tonks was outside the common room, sniffling and carrying on. I thought it was something ridiculous, but she told me Lupin's really ill." Hermione glances at Ron. "Oh, Ron, really. At least try to stay awake. You have crumbs in your hair." Hermione reached over to brush them off his fringe, but he jerked away.  
  
"Mmpf," Ron replied smartly.  
  
Harry and Hermione stared at him for a moment before Harry got up. "We'd better go see him right away. Pomfrey may still be half asleep; perhaps we can still sneak by her."  
  
With that, they finished breakfast quickly and, pulling Ron out of his, headed straight for the Hospital Wing. Things looked positive since neither Hermione nor Harry could hear Madame Pomfrey bustling about and administering concoctions to her patients. But Ron heard something else.  
  
"Hey, did you hear that?" he asked, perturbed.  
  
"Hear what?" Hermione said irritably. Ron had been absolutely sluggish all morning. She figured it was simply his overactive imagination. Either that or he'd gone mad.  
  
"Voices," he slurred. He leaned his head against the door and squinted his eyes closed tight. He seemed to be straining, but his face brightened suddenly. He pulled out a pair of Extendable Ears.  
  
Hermione looked disapproving, but Harry just grinned. Ron shrugged. "Fred and George 'left' some in my room. Didn't think I'd use them. Handy now, though."  
  
He handed one to Harry, and they both listened while Hermione looked on with an expression between exasperation and anxiety.  
  
"Well?" she questioned quietly.  
  
"Sounds like Professor Letalis," Harry whispered back.  
  
Ron had his eyes closed once more with knitted brows. He looked rather silly, and Hermione turned away to hide her giggle. She whipped back around when Ron began to speak.  
  
"Oh, Remus. Where did we go wrong?" A long silence. "You never would listen to me. Always Potter and Black. Never me." Harry looked extremely startled to hear his dad and godfather's names. Letalis had known them? "I am only trying to protect you. But you just won't allow it."  
  
Ron looked incredulous after he finished mimicking Letalis' speech. "What?" Hermione hissed.  
  
"She's crying, Hermione."  
  
They all sat in dumbfounded silence. "Listen some more," Hermione whispered. "She may say something else."  
  
Ron and Harry leaned reluctantly against the wall.  
  
"-hurt you. May even kill you. It's your own fault. There's nothing I can do for you now, Remus. I tried and tried. I even came to Hogwart's just to warn you. Maybe even save you. But you were gone, and now he wants you. He won't stop until he does."  
  
The crying magnified into steady weeping, and any other words were lost in Letalis' tears.  
  
A minute later, Madame Pomfrey's sharp boots sounded across until they stopped directly by the sound of the weeping.  
  
"Dear-" Madame Pomfrey's began gently, "It's almost time for classes to begin. You must pull yourself together. Besides- the Tonks woman is practically beating down the door to come in. She has nothing better to do than make a scene." Madame Pomfrey sniffs almost inaudibly.  
  
"Thank you Madame-"  
  
"Poppy, dear. You're staff so civility can be stopped."  
  
"Thank you, Poppy. I really appreciate you letting me stay with him."  
  
"I'm sure he would too."  
  
Letalis mumbled in embarrassment and walked out quickly. Ron and Harry heard Pomfrey sigh and then Tonks' unmistakable "Hey there, Pops! Where's the poor guy today?"  
  
The boys took the Ears off the walls and stood slowly. Hermione watched them intently. "Well?"  
  
"Well-" Ron started.  
  
"You don't think this has anything to do with what I saw?" Harry interrupted, worry coloring his voice.  
  
"To the library, now," Hermione replied tightly.  
  
After getting past Madame Pince's watchful eye, "A little early for study, is it not?", the group sat down in a secluded corner to put together everything they'd learned so far about the situation between Lupin and Letalis.  
  
"It appears that Letalis is controlling Lupin," Hermione began.  
  
"Whoa, hold on there. Controlling him? How? With her irresistible charm?" Ron asked disbelievingly and Harry snorted.  
  
"No, with her mind, Ron. Honestly. Do you ever listen in class?"  
  
Ron looked sheepish. "Is that what your sudden outburst was about, Hermione?"  
  
She nodded tersely. "I read a book I'd checked out from the library on mind control and read up on it. The symptoms you described in Lupin, Harry, are identical to the one listed in the book."  
  
They sat in silence.  
  
"But, Hermione, why would Professor Letalis want to have that kind of power over Lupin?" Harry asked in apparent confusion.  
  
Hermione looked at him seriously.  
  
"Oh no, you can't be serious. Hermione, really. Professor Letalis wouldn't give Lupin over to You-Know-Who," Ron snorted, as if the idea was completely preposterous.  
  
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting, Ron. I mean, after what she's said and what we're learning in class-"  
  
"Why would she teach us the very thing that she was using?"  
  
"Maybe she thinks the dramatic irony would be amusing before it all came out."  
  
"Oh come on, Hermione. You make her sound like a mad witch."  
  
"Well, maybe she is! Ron, remember how Lupin hinted at his being a werewolf throughout third year? Why shouldn't Letalis do the same?"  
  
"Hermione, werewolves were in his curriculum. Plus being a werewolf isn't quite as bad as being a spy for the Dark Lord!"  
  
"You just refuse to see it. Why are you protecting Letalis, Ron? She could be hurting Lupin!"  
  
"She said she was trying to help him!"  
  
"To see that Voldemort and his Death Eaters will conquer! She could be mad, Ron. She may twistedly believe that getting Lupin on her side will protect him."  
  
"She's on our side, Hermione."  
  
Harry had been sitting quietly and now he spoke calmly, "What if she's right, Ron? She came in here with no one knowing a thing about her. She's a powerful Witch and Elf, exactly the kind of person Voldemort would want on his side. She's distracted us from war planning and the D.A. with the play and all her homework. Perhaps she's giving us a false sense of security, mate."  
  
Ron looked shocked. "I can't believe it. You both are so- suspicious! Letalis is giving us something to take our minds of the deaths out there and the impending War! All the while, she's teaching us important Dark magic to defend ourselves again when the time comes. She's trying to help us."  
  
"Then what's going on between her and Lupin, Ron?"  
  
"They're old friends. She's worried about him, of course. He's been out there, working for the Order and in danger constantly. She's probably discussing tactics all the while only wishing he'd stay out of harms way."  
  
"That's a particularly romantic view for old friends, Ron."  
  
"Yeah, well, apparently you don't know that much about them," he replied hotly. With that, Ron marched out of the library, causing Madame Pince's lips to curl as he boomed past.  
  
"You're in a library, Mr. Weas-" she began right as Ron slammed the door.  
  
"Well, I declare!" She exclaimed, wondering what in the world had sent Mr. Weasley out in such a fashion.  
  
Hermione heaved a deep sigh and rubbed her temples. Harry looped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll pull through, Hermione. Like always. And I hope to Jupiter and back that Ron's right."  
  
"So do I, Harry. So do I." They sat in silence, leaning on each other.  
  
"We probably should try to act as normal as possible around Professor Letalis," Hermione mumbled.  
  
"Yeah, we don't want her to think we suspect her. There's too many people she could hurt."  
  
"And I still want to have time to prove our theory wrong."  
  
After that, the two walked gripping each other's hands in support out of the library.  
  
Madame Pince saw their interlocked fingers. "Ah. That would explain it," she said as the door shut quietly behind them.  
  
...  
  
Ron Weasley stormed through Hogwarts, rapidly making his way to Gryffindor Tower. Muttering all the way, he wondered why he had gotten so upset at Hermione's suggestion, though he knew the answer.  
  
Ron had gotten very few hours of sleep since the play had started. The strangely beautiful woman was still haunting his dreams. Every night he went to bed, waiting for sleep to come. As soon as it did, the woman was there, always there and waiting for him. She seemed to be pulling him in, leaving him physically drained, even if he slept the entire night.  
  
Ron reached his bedroom quarters and collapsed on his bed. It was only noon, yet already he felt exhausted. He knew he had to be up by five, since the cast and crew were supposed to watch the cinematic version of Moulin Rouge.  
  
Ron was afraid to close his eyes and slip into an unconscious state, as he knew who would be waiting for him in the dark. She was always there, why would today be any different? His exhaustion slowly won over, and he gave in to the shadowy waves of sleep.  
  
Bright colors swirled around him, dancers in exotic costumes and, of course, Ron's mystery woman. Once her eyes fell on him, she smiled, and motioned for him to come over. As always, he did as she asked. Her face clung to his mind with familiarity, yet he couldn't place her.  
  
As the woman snaked into Ron's arms, he led her in dance as the others continued to twirl around them, oblivious of the couple in the middle of the room. The music grew louder, and the dancers hurried up their previously ponderous pace. Quickly everyone worked up into a sparkling hurricane to keep up with the music. Ron concentrated on the woman's eyes, searching for a name in them, but as soon as he felt he had a grasp on her elusive identity, a loud bellowing woke him up.  
  
"Ron! Oi, are you planning on lying there like Trevor all day?" Seamus yelled as he stood over Ron's bed. Dean stood close by, shaking his head in disapproval. All three of them looked over at Trevor who had sunk deep into Neville's down pillow.  
  
"I never knew toads snored," Ron groaned.  
  
"We have to get over to the theatre to watch the movie! Now." Since Dean was Muggle-born, he was one of the few students who completely understood exactly what they'd be seeing. The others seemed apprehensive and mystified and spoke in hushed undertones of the actors jumping out at you. Poor Neville had been terrified when Malfoy and his cronies talked about one that beheaded people if they didn't watch the entire thing properly.  
  
Of course, any student who knew otherwise kept quiet and smiled delightedly together when they could get away from the probing questions. Ron had been so concerned, he even asked Harry about it. Harry had decided after torturing Ron with the thought of delicious food floating right out of reach to tell him the truth.  
  
"So, it just sits there in the screen then?"  
  
"That's all, Ron."  
  
"Well, that's no fun."  
  
"I'm coming," Ron replied sleepily, shaking off his reverie and slowly opening his eyes. Though he had slept for hours, he felt even more fatigued than before. He rolled out of bed, rubbing his eyes and followed the boys down the stairs.  
  
Harry and Hermione were waiting for him in the common room. Hermione spotted him first and smiled timidly.  
  
"Hi, Ron, are you feeling better? You didn't seem to be yourself earlier."  
  
"I'm fine," he snapped. "Let's go."  
  
Hermione's smile disappeared, and her eyes seemed suspiciously wet. She wiped away the invisible tears quickly. "All right," she said, forcing a smile that looked like a grimace. The three made their way toward the door.  
  
Once they reached the theatre, they found it full of other sixth and seventh year students, chatting excitedly about the mysterious "movie."  
  
"Where's it going to come from?"  
  
"What do you suppose Americans look like?  
  
"I wonder what all of it will look like!"  
  
"You really think they'll come out and eat us?"  
  
"Neville, I'm not sure there are any monsters in this movie."  
  
"Well. You never know."  
  
Hermione shook her head, a real smile returning inch by inch as everyone introduced one preposterous idea after another. After thinking for a moment, however, she had a question of her own.  
  
"How are they going to use the telly? Muggle electronics don't work on Hogwarts grounds."  
  
"I don't know," Harry replied absently. His attention was elsewhere, focused on the redhead who had just ran into a chair. Exactly how long had Ron had those dark circles? Harry was beginning to worry for his friend, though he didn't know how to approach him. It wasn't usually Ron that needed approaching; Harry fulfilled that position quite adequately. He wasn't equipped to deal with this inverse situation.  
  
Letalis entered, interrupting Harry's musings.  
  
"Good afternoon, everyone. Soon we will start the movie, and there shouldn't be any problems. I was planning on watching with you, but I have prior engagements that should be attended, and I must leave. However, I'm leaving you in very capable hands. Please behave as you would for me. Thank you," she finished as she exited quickly.  
  
A device rolled out on its own, looking exactly like a rather old Muggle television, if it weren't for the undeniable fact that it was rolling without anyone pushing it. The Muggleborn students looked at each other in vague confusion, as the rest of the students watched spellbound. The television came to a stop in the middle of the room.  
  
A picture quickly came onto the screen, causing many students to jump back but then let out a chorus of oohs and ahs.  
  
"All right then," the television spoke sullenly, surprising nearly everyone in the room. "I'm here to show you this bloody movie, so let's get on with it, shall we?"  
  
"Oh, that's how it's going to work! We're not watching a _real_ television," Hermione said, her enthusiasm in figuring it out coming off a bit too loudly.  
  
"And what exactly is it that makes me un_real_?" the television shot back.  
  
Hermione blushed heavily. "I didn't mean unreal, I just meant, well, rea-I mean, Muggle televisions don't talk," Hermione explained, somewhat apologetic.  
  
"Well! I have never," the television started indignantly, "been so insulted in all my days. Just because I am slightly different, no, _better_, than a Muggle telly I am forced to suffer this, this INJUSTICE!"  
  
"I wasn't-"  
  
"A filthy accusation! A crime against the arts! Destruction before cinematic perfection! A-"  
  
"Could we please begin the movie?" came a long, drawling voice that could only belong to Draco Malfoy. "With all due respect, Miss-Telly, I would like to finish this movie in my lifetime."  
  
Everyone slowly turned to look back at the television, curious to see its reaction. Strangely enough, there was none. The static turned a rosy pink. The room was silent for a moment. This silence was broken with the movie beginning, much to the delight of the students.  
  
"This is just like magic!" Lavender whispered breathlessly to a giggling Parvati. Ron rolled his eyes and commented about a certain DADA teacher. Harry smiled, glad to see Ron behaving like his old self.  
  
As the movie went on, the students had a great time sizing up the actors who played their characters. They recognized themselves immediately because the character sketches had gone so well.  
  
Neville was devastated. "I can never do that! He's funny and moves perfectly!" He looked utterly defeated.  
  
"Plus, he's built, and you're a tub of lard," Draco added helpfully.  
  
Ginny's hand came down like an avenging angel on Draco's slick head. A silent "ow" issued from his mouth, and Ginny muttered, "Watch it, Malfoy."  
  
Neville cheered significantly.  
  
"Ooh, Ron, you're devilishly good-looking!" Parvati exclaimed. Lavender nodded her head in agreement without taking her eyes off the wonder that was Ewan McGregor. Ron smiled because somehow the comment inflated his ego a bit, although he and the Christian bloke looked nothing alike. Harry and Hermione took notice of the small smile and sank back into their seats, feeling a bit relieved.  
  
Draco Malfoy interrupted the adoring sighs of the female audience to sputter resentfully.  
  
"That is _not_ me!" came his horrified response at seeing the Duke for the first time. "He looks like a rat! I do not look like a rat."  
  
"Ferret more like it," Ron murmured, earning chuckles from the other Gryffindor boys.  
  
The girls, however, reassured Draco swiftly. "We're so lucky to have a handsome Duke. It's no fun when royalty is unattractive."  
  
Hermione snorted. "I suppose having bumbling, beautiful idiots on the throne is preferable to actual political leaders?"  
  
"Are you calling me an idiot?" Draco asked in offense, but everyone ignored him.  
  
The girls looked startled. "Well. No one likes politicians. Everyone likes pretty people."  
  
"I suppose Malfoy is the only exception to that rule," Harry said dryly. Ron snickered.  
  
Draco looked incredulous. "Potter, did you just admit that I'm pretty?"  
  
Harry started choking so hard, Ron went to get him a glass of water.  
  
"Well, look at us, Harry," Ginny sighed heavily. "We're the prostitutes and we look like badly made dolls in rags. We're not exactly pretty."  
  
"That's why this play will be twice as good. Pretty prostitutes are in short supply, but we have them," Draco winked at the surrounding girls saucily.  
  
"Huh. A pretty face gets you paid," Ginny pondered out loud.  
  
"And-" Draco began, but loud hushing cut him off.  
  
The girls giggled till another round of hushing ensued.  
  
"You think we could get Potter and Weasley to switch parts? I mean, Weasley's got the flaming hair and manic glint in his eyes. And well, Potter has got dark hair."  
  
"Or maybe," Ron began sarcastically, "we could get Goyle to be Zidler since he's got a gut, and I'll just pummel your face into-"  
  
"Or," Draco continued, ignoring Ron and purring softly, "I could be Christian because I've got a dazzling voice and a certain- chemistry with Granger. I thought some French snogging during our scenes together would be enough, however," he grinned maliciously, "Granger seems to want more."  
  
Hermione whipped around, her blush hidden by the darkened room. "Draco Malfoy, if you do not cease your incessant commenting, the first love scene we must perform I will bite your tongue clear off and spit it out to the audience. Is that perfectly clear?"  
  
Ginny leaned over and whispered loudly, "Better not, Hermione. He might like that."  
  
Everyone exploded into giggles, and Harry put an arm around Hermione in attempt to keep her fists from flying into the next mouth that spoke.  
  
A few people gasped, and Ron looked at them in confusion.  
  
_What_? He mused to himself. _Harry's just keeping Hermione from going on a homicidal warpath. Not as if anyone else would have the stomach_ _for it._  
  
As the movie progressed, an indescribable feeling came over the students. Seeing it all come together beautifully gave them a bit of hope, now knowing what they could be if they worked hard enough.  
  
Ron, however, was filled with a completely different feeling. It was a feeling of familiarity. As he watched the movie, he couldn't help feeling like he had been there before, but he couldn't quite remember when or why.  
  
The end of the movie was met with tremendous applause and a few tears. The television spoke for one last time, only to tell the students to go back to their respective common rooms, before rolling herself miserably backstage.  
  
"Well, I really enjoyed that, didn't you guys?" Hermione said, happy that the tension between the three of them had lessened greatly with the events in the theater.  
  
"I don't know. I seem like a bit of a pansy," Ron said playfully.  
  
Hermione laughed as Harry added, "Well, what about you, 'Mione? You do seem to get around, don't you?"  
  
"Well, Harry, that is generally the idea behind prostitution, isn't it?" Hermione said through her giggles.  
  
As the trio went along, laughing, they all felt a sense of release. They had worked out their problems from the library that morning without even having to talk about it, which was fine by everyone, especially Ron.  
  
However, Hermione stopped so quickly, Ron and Harry bumped into her, almost dog-piling on the floor. Ron opened his mouth to rag on Hermione, but she held a finger to her lips and motioned in front of them. Tonks and Letalis were standing outside the hospital wing, both glaring at each other very angrily. The three hid around the corner, sensing immediately their presence would not be appreciated.  
  
"I don't know what you think you're doing, Gilraen," Tonks spat furiously. The trio had never heard her speak in such a vicious manner.  
  
"I don't know what you mean," Letalis replied slowly.  
  
"Oh, sure. Go ahead and play dumb Elf. There's something wrong with Remus, and whatever you're doing isn't helping. If that's even your intent, I mean. Everyone else may think that your special talent is wonderful, but you don't fool me so easily. I think you're really trying to hurt him, and I won't stand for it!"  
  
Hermione looked at the other two, too frightened to say 'I told you so.'  
  
"Well, _Nymphadora_, what are you doing to try to help, hm?" Tonks stared at Letalis with unalderated fury in her eyes, her hair changing into a vivid red with a small pop. "As I expected. Unless you come up with something better, I will continue with my duty because I am a professional. I swore an oath to Dumbledore. And I won't leave until it has been completed. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"  
  
With that, Letalis turned with a snap of her cloak and walked away briskly. Before she had left the hallway she turned around and said heatedly, "Do not think you are the only one here who cares for Remus. If you are under that assumption, I think you will find yourself gravely mistaken."  
  
Gradually, the trio turned around, deciding to go the long way back to Gryffindor Tower. Once they reached the common room, they sat stiffly in their regular places by the fire. By that time in the evening, only a few first years remained, and after the trio had stared at them long enough, they took the hint and went up to bed.  
  
Secure in the thought that they were alone, Hermione looked at her friends in consternation before beginning. "I told you, Ron! She's using her power to hurt Lupin! You heard what Tonks said!"  
  
"Hermione, since when is Tonks a completely reliable source? Remember when she claimed Winky was trying to kill her, and it turned out Winky had forgotten to take a darning needle out of her sock? She's a better drama queen than half our cast! She was wrong then, and she's wrong now."  
  
"How do you know that, Ron? How can we be sure?" Hermione cried.  
  
"Would Dumbledore really hire someone in league with You-Know-Who? Hermione, be sensible. It's usually me who thinks everyone has evil intention. This is quite a reversal of roles," Ron said, trying to end the argument as calmly as he could manage.  
  
"He's hired evil before! Professor Quirrel, Professor Moody! Well, kind of..."  
  
"Would you just shut your mouth? I don't have time to deal with this right now! On top of schoolwork, and the fact that I can't- well, I'm not- it doesn't matter. I can't think about the possibility of an evil she-Elf trying to turn Lupin at the moment!" Ron yelled, standing up so hastily that he knocked the chess set over, causing Hermione to jump and pieces to scatter, who then moaned and yelled curses at them both.  
  
Ron opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it, and ran upstairs to his room. Harry and Hermione heard a door slam and then silence.  
  
"What did I say?" Hermione said quietly, obviously on the verge of unsuppressed tears. "Why did he yell at me like that?" she continued, sobbing softly.  
  
"I have no idea. Oh, Hermione, don't cry. Come here," was all that Harry replied. Hermione climbed next to him on the couch and rested her head on his shoulder, falling asleep almost instantly. "I have no idea," Harry repeated to himself, staring into the crackling fireplace.  
  
...  
  
Always a light sleeper, Lavender Brown had awakened to hear the raised voices downstairs. She was quite annoyed and covered her head with her pillow, waiting for them to stop. When they didn't, she tried to hear what was going on. After a startling door slam sent her bolt right up, she decided to go see for herself what had happened.  
  
As she made her way down the stairs, she wondered what could possibly be happening. Near the bottom of the staircase she halted in surprise, her slipper dangling above the landing. She saw Hermione sleeping with her head on Harry's shoulder. Harry's arm rest around Hermione, and he was staring off to the side. Lavender realized that they hadn't noticed her, and she flew upstairs, eager to divulge her newfound information.  
  
"Parvati!" she hissed, shaking her friend awake.  
  
"What?" Parvati replied groggily. "Where am I? What time is it?"  
  
"Forget about the time and the place, wake up! I have _very_ interesting news," Lavender said excitedly before proceeding to explain what she saw in the common room. "Oh, this goes perfectly with what Madame Pince told me."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Madame Pince! She had been mumbling about the lack of respect for libraries and the awful public displays of affection. I asked her what she meant, and she told me that she saw Harry and Hermione leave the library holding hands, _after_ she had seen Ron leave terribly upset! What do you think it means?"  
  
"I think it means..._what_ are you doing gossiping with Madame Pince?" Parvati exclaimed, suddenly horrified.  
  
"We've had a little deal going on since fifth year, when I realized what a goldmine the library was for juicy information! You know, that's where Viktor started talking to Hermione. If only I had spent more time in the library, right? Basically, I bring Madame Pince my old copies of _Witch Weekly_ since she says the staff would make fun of her for buying them. You know, since they're addressed to me, she can always just say I left them in the library. In exchange, she tells me about all the great happenings of Hogwarts! And students thought the library was safe. That's how I found out about that time where Neville and Luna-"  
  
"Stop!" Parvati squealed. "Okay, first of all- EW! Neville and Luna? And second, I thought Hermione liked Ron."  
  
"I know, I thought so too. That's what she told us, right? Maybe she changed her mind, finally seeing that Harry is much better looking, of course," Lavender replied somberly.  
  
"Now, I've always found Ron to be cuter, even if he is a dunderhead for not realizing Hermione liked him-" Parvati began, "Anyway, what do you think we should do about Hermione and Harry?"  
  
"Well, obviously, we must follow them around. You know, spy to figure out what's going on, for everyone's safety," Lavender said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Why don't we just ask Hermione?" Parvati asked.  
  
"Because that would be rude."  
  
"What, and spying and eavesdropping isn't?" Parvati asked, unconvinced.  
  
"Well, at least this way she doesn't know we're being rude!" Lavender rationalized.  
  
"Okay, well, can this at least wait until morning?"  
  
"Of course. Good night."  
  
"'Night."  
  
"Parvati?"  
  
"What, Lavender?"  
  
"I always thought Ron and Hermione would be a darling couple."  
  
"So did I. Now go to sleep."  
  
They turned out their lights and soon fell asleep, dreaming of all the delicious gossip only they had in their possession. Tomorrow was a big day.  
  
Elsewhere in Hogwarts, no one heard the howl of a werewolf writhing in pain. 


End file.
